


R is for Ranger

by C130



Series: Alphabet Advent Calendars [3]
Category: Cars (Pixar Movies), Planes (Movies)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Gen, Past Character Death, Slice of Life, Smokejumpers should not be let near explosives, So Others Might Live, national parks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 24,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C130/pseuds/C130
Summary: Whether they work directly with the public or behind the scenes, it takes a whole lot of work to manage a National Park. In this collection of one-shots we will be exploring the lives of rangers and staff who protect Piston Peak National Park. As those who have joined me for pervious years know, this story is my Christmas gift to you and I will be posting a story nearly daily to get them up by Christmas. So let's get ready to greet the guests because it is time to explore Piston Peaks National Park!
Series: Alphabet Advent Calendars [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1187987
Comments: 72
Kudos: 33





	1. A is for Approach Road

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone...I was planning on starting to posting these stories tomorrow...but it is Thanksgiving, there are way too many people in the kitchen, and getting this story posted is giving me an excuse to avoid relatives for a little while. As I have mentioned in some of my previous work, when I was a kid I spent many a summer living in Yellowstone National Park staff housing. The memories of growing up among the Rangers and their families gave me a lot of inspiration for this year's collections, and I will admit that many of the OC's that will pop in on occasion are based on actual rangers that have known and worked with over my life. As a result, this story is dedicated to them.

Wildfires plus rains equal a whole lot of trouble. Steep rocky terrain only made the situation worse, and while every employee of Piston Peak’s National Park had done their best to stabilize as many of the bare slopes as possible…they surrounding county hadn’t had the same level of resources. As a result, the spring following the Great Piston Peak’s Fire was proving to be a royal mess.

Unfortunately, this meant that when a massive landslide buried the approach road a half-mile outside the park, no one was particularly surprised. Still, both the park and the county were left scrambling. Poor planning meant that there wasn’t a back entrance to the park, and the rail track was just as badly buried as the road, which meant both organizations were left scrambling to rescue a gaggle of visitors that were stuck in the park.

Now for your average superintendent, the mound of dirt, rock, and debris would be enough to make them sob. But from his vantage point strapped into the hold of the park’s resident cargo plane, Jammer was fairly optimistic.

“How many days do you think it would take our folks to dig us out?” He shouted to be heard over the thunder of engines.

“Hm…” Chief Blade Ranger, the helicopter that led his Fire and Rescue team eyed mass of rubble. “That looks like a solid, four days of work.”

“You know that the gravel munchers will insist on just powering through this job.” Cabbie’s voice thrummed through the metal beneath Jammer’s tires as the big plane spoke.

Blade gave a heavy sigh of agreement. “Fine, it is closer to two and a half days of work if they insist on working through the night, but I would prefer if they bedded down and got a proper night’s sleep. Tired vehicles are a lot higher risk for accidents and injuries.”

“I think that settles that then.” Jammer announced. “Chief, I would like to put your smokejumpers in charge of this operation. They have the backcountry and off-road experience that all the other departments lack. They will have the full cooperation from park’s road crew, as well as, as some county vehicles.”

Blade opened his mouth as if to stay something, but Cabbie beat him to the punch. “Dynamite and Avalanche are going to have a field day.”

* * *

Blade’s estimate proved to be pretty close. The smokejumpers rumbled back onto base a quarter to midnight on the third day. They had worked nonstop until the access road was clear, and now that they were home, they didn’t even bother to hose themselves down. They just opened the door to the main hanger and parked themselves inside.

While that may have seemed like at idea to the smokejumpers at the time, it didn’t take long for the Chief to disagree with them. Blade discovered the crew shortly before dawn when he was preparing for his morning patrol. As he tried to grab a morning cup of Joe, he found his way was blocked by a mass of snoring smokejumpers that were utterly dead to the world. After a couple of attempts to wake and/or move them failed, Blade called in the Calvary.

“Cabbie, come and deal with your jumpers.” The Chief motioned towards the gaggle of smokejumpers with his rotor blades. Cabbie, for his part, just stared sleepily at the helicopter. Then the cargo plane yawned.

“Looks like they are finally getting some overdue sleep.”

“Well, they could do that in their own hanger.” Blade grumbled. He was under-caffeinated, which was always a bad way to start the day.

The big plane poked his nose into the main hanger and simply gave a shrug of his wings. “Last time tried to move this lot when they were asleep, it required Windlifter…and you know how well he does mornings. They won’t sleep in too long, but with as hard as they have been working, they deserve a bit of solid shuteye.”

Blade grumbled a bit, then brought up his pressing question. “Coffee?”

“I will get the pot in my hanger fired up.” It was Cabbie’s turn to sigh as he guided the cranky helicopter across the apron for a mug of firehouse brew.

* * *

**_Term_** _-_ Approach Road- _The designation for roads regularly used by visitors to enter/exit the park. These roads often have official gates that at or near where the road crosses into the park. While some parks only have one approach road, many have several roads that enter the park from multiple directions. For example, Yellowstone and Yosemite National Park both have has five access points, while Bryce Canyon National Park only has one approach road, but has two unimproved back road that can be used to access the park in an emergency._


	2. B is for Board of Survey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this moment, Jammer suspected that the Secretary of the Interior was purely fueled by coffee and fury.

Everyone in the room looked exhausted…everyone but the Secretary of the Interior, he just looked pissed beyond belief. Jammer suspected at the moment the SUV was purely fueled on coffee and fury.

“Alright.” The Secretary breathed, while staring down Piston Peak’s department heads, as well as, its former superintendent. “We have just survived the largest fire in a National Park since the Yellowstone fire of 1988. Visitors were put in unnecessary danger, park employees were critically injured, and a whole lot of infrastructure was damaged or destroyed. Given the severity of this disaster, we are holding a Board of Survey to determine the reasons why this fire spiraled out of control and determine blame.” The SUV’s typically level tone sharpened a bit. “Is this understood?”

There were a lot of halfhearted responses from the gathered vehicles, and a few of them just stared at the paperwork in front of them, as though the expected be dragged through a tongue lashing.

“Good.” The Secretary of the Interior sighed and sunk a little bit onto his suspension. “Chief Ranger and Pulaski, your departments took the lead on this operation. Can you start by briefing us on the events that led up to this particular fire?”

The two fire apparatus glanced at each other for a long enough time period that an entire unspoken conversation flowed between them. Once they came to a conclusion, Blade Ranger cleared his throat…but he didn’t have a chance to speak.

“This whole mess happened because these two yahoos didn’t do their job.” The pout in Cad’s voice was palpable. Chief Blade Ranger turned on the former superintendent, his rotors bristling, his crumpled flank still visible, and clearly on the verge of losing control. The helicopter was about to chew his former boss a new sunroof when the Secretary of the Interior barked out an order.

“Out!”

Both vehicles froze, but the Secretary’s eyes were leveled his fellow SUV.

“But…” Cad whined, clearly not completely cowed.

“Out now.” The older SUV glared Cad down until he finally slunk out of the room. The Secretary of the Interior closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. When he opened them, it was almost as if the vehicle had taken the weight of the whole situation on his tow hook. “Please forgive me; I am incredibly rusty at running these types of meetings. Would everyone be okay if we start everything from the beginning?”

“Sir.” Jammer spoke up for everyone in the room. “I think we would all be worried if you had to deal with these types of meeting on a regular basis.”

“Thank you. But I still made a major error and clearly didn’t have my priorities straight. I want to know who was hurt from every department. Not a number, their actual name and how the injury occurred, even if it was a minor one.” The SUV flipped through a stack of papers in front of him. “And let’s start with the department with the highest number of staff. Ranger Jammer, how is the interpretive department doing?”

For the next 4 hours, the pain and hurt poured out. Department spoke of staff members left homeless, employees injured, and resources lost. They commiserated over near-misses and shared the terror some had felt when it was clear that some of their people had been trapped in the flames. As vehicles spoke, it became clear that it was truly a miracle that no one had been killed.

Only once every department had had the chance they needed to speak, did the Secretary of Interior move to the next line item on the meeting’s agenda.

* * *

 ** _Term_** -Board Survey- _In the US National Park Service, a Board Survey is held when something really goes wrong. They are used to identify what caused an emergency at a park and is often used to assign blame. That said, board surveys can also be used after natural disasters to determine what actions can be taken to help the park recover and create plans to help prevent similar emergencies from happening in the future._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When massive fires hit a National Park firefighting efforts focus on the most historically and functionally important structures in the park. This is often at the cost of infrastructure that park visitors do not see such as ranger housing. An example of this the 1988 Great Yellowstone Fire, hundreds of firefighters worked to protect the visitor complex at Old Faithful and they successfully saved all but 19 of the 400 structures. 12 of those 19 structures were staff housing complexes, which while easily were easily financially replaced the loss had a significant emotional toll on those that lived in the park for decades after.


	3. C is for Campfire Program

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And this is why Windlifter shouldn't be allowed in public...

No one was sure why Cad had decided that Windlifter would be the best aircraft in the park to give a regular campfire program, after all, Ranger Jammer had an entire staff of interpretative rangers to pick from…several of which were trained educators or scientists. Both Jammer and Blade tried to point this out. Unfortunately, when Superintendent Cad Spinner got an idea in his trunk it was rather difficult to get him to dump it.

It was not until Cad had introduced Windlifter as their resident indigenous specialist, did the two supervisors realize just how badly things could go. Luckily the Skycrane didn’t even bat an eye at the comment. Instead, he got a slight curve on the edge of his lips…a curve that sent shivers down Blade’s control line. He might not know his newest recruit well, but the Chief suspected that Windlifter was about to take everyone for a ride.

When it was finally time for the Skycrane to take the stage, Windlifter took a deep breath, and once the entire audience was focused on him he began to spin his tale. “Tonight, I would like to tell you the story of when Coyote stole fire…” 

Cad never asked Windlifter to present a campfire program again. Though, Ranger Jammer did manage to get Windlifter to help with a number of teen programs later in the summer. Turns out that the Skycrane’s particular flavor of bullshit was the perfect remedy for kids who were sure that they already knew everything.

* * *

**_Term_** \- Campfire Program- _A term used to describe an evening program hosted by rangers, volunteers, or other park staff. Historically campfire programs took place around a campfire within designated campgrounds. This early programs might last as long as 3 hours, but modern campfire programs usually last between 30 minutes and a hour. While modern campfire programs generally take place in the evenings, it is not unusual for them to be held in outdoor amphitheaters or within the park’s visitor center. Topics of campfire programs include science, wildlife, local legends/stories, history, and park safety._


	4. D is for Day Camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was raining again...which of course meant that the smokejumpers were causing trouble.

It was raining again…a long, grey drizzle that chased away fires and park visitors alike. The members of the Piston Peaks Air Attack base had gotten all of their housekeeping chores done days ago and a special level of mind-numbing boredom had arrived. When it came to the base’s aircraft, the boredom was almost a welcome relief…when it came to the smokejumpers, it was proving to be a danger and it was only a matter of time before the Chief reached his breaking point.

“Stop, now.” Blade didn’t need to yell to get the smokejumpers to immediately spring to attention. The low growl he made as the wad of mud that Drip had just thrown slid down the helicopter’s side was enough to leave the smokejumpers wide-eyed with nervousness.

“Dynamite.”

“Yes, sir.” The ATV replied, holding her frame at attention.

“Find something for your crew do. I don’t care what it is you go as long as you are off base, within the park, and you give the lodge, park staff, and the park guests a wide berth.”

“Can we at least…” Drip clearly glutton for punishment as he spoke up.

“No.” Blade’s response fell like an anvil.

“But you didn’t even…” A whine started to sneak into the edges of Drip’s voice.

“Because I didn’t need to hear your suggestion.” Blade countered before leveling a look at Dynamite. “You have 30 minutes to get your team out of my earshot and you will remain out of earshot until sunset. If you fail to do that, then I will find you all something to do, and believe me, you do not want that to happen.”

This time the smokejumpers had enough common sense to keep their mouths shut and simply nod…but their tires also appeared to be rooted to the spot.

“You now have 29 minutes.”

The smokejumpers didn’t need to be told twice.

* * *

Finding a place out of earshot of the Air Attack Base was significantly more difficult when Avalanche was part of your team, but eventually the team located a nice picnic spot up a blind canyon. After radioing their location into Patch, the Smokejumper worked to settle into their camp.

First, Avalanche bent his blade to clearing wet leaves and debris out of the way leaving an area of flat, moist earth. Then Pinecone and Drip worked together to hang a tarp over their camping area while Blackout tried to find some relatively dry wood for a campfire. By the time he and Dynamite had hauled enough fuel back to the camping spot, a campfire pit had been dug under the tarp and their fellow smokejumpers were ready for some warmth. Lighting the fire proved to be the most challenging part of the exercise, but eventually Dynamite was able to convince some sparks to take. And soon they had a cheery fire crackling away.

“WELL, WHAT SHOULD WE DO NOW?”

Everyone stared at each other for a moment, until Pinecone broke the silence. “It required a muddy slog to get here. I vote that now that now that we are warm and relatively dry that we take a nap.”

No one could come up with a better idea, so that is what they did. Once they had lounged around for 45 minutes, Blackout pulled out a soggy set of playing cards and they began a wicked round of slamwich. Eventually, they started to get a bit hungry, but luckily there was a break in the weather that allowed Cabbie to do an ‘emergency’ marshmallow and MRE drop.

Now that the Smokejumpers were happily fed, no one was particularly surprised that they extended their day camping trip and decided to spend the night telling ghost stories in the woods.

* * *

**_Term_** \- Day Camping- _In contrast with night (traditional) camping, day camping does not involve an overnight stay. Instead, the camper may set up a camp as a base of operations for daytime activities such as holding a bonfire, cooking, playing games, or simply relaxing in nature. Depending on the weather, day campers may choose to set up a tent or tarp to protect them from sun, rain, or snow. Many National Parks and Forests have designated picnic or day camping sites. These sites usually have designated times that they are open such as from sunrise to sunset or 5 am to 10 pm. While these locations are often free to use during their open periods, you will get a hefty ticket for trying to overnight camp in day camping areas._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I have successfully finished writing this story (if you are curious, O was the last chapter done primarily because Drip was being a pill and wouldn't cooperate with the author). So it is time for me to start working on next year's advent calendar. I am currently learning towards two themes: M is for Mechanic and P is for Parachute. M is for Mechanic would focus on the job injuries and ailments, while P is for Parachutes would be a series with pieces of firefighting equipment as prompts. 
> 
> If you have a moment, I would love to hear about what you would like to read next Christmas, as well as, any prompts/themes that you would like added to my slush list. Thanks a ton!


	5. E is for Earthquake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of earthquakes lead to sleepless nights for the team.

Intellectually, Chief Blade Ranger had known that earthquakes in the park were a possibility. They were in California after all, and everyone knew that California had earthquakes. He had even been through his fair share of quakes, including one big one…the San Fernando Quake in 1971, but even that experience hadn’t prepared for the events of the 4th and 5th of July.

The first of three major earthquakes hit the community of Ridgecrest around 10:33 am. Within five minutes, the tremors produced by the 6.4 magnitude quake could be felt within the park itself, leading to a number of minor rockslides within the park. The smokejumpers and road crew worked through the night to clear the debris, while the team’s aircraft worked to make sure that no campfires got out of control in the at-capacity park.

By the morning of the 5th, Blade was feeling like things were under control. The rockslides were cleared, and the smokejumpers were finally trickling back into base for a hot meal and some much deserved rest…then at 8:19 pm, the mainshock of the earthquake hit and all bets were off.

With sunset at 8:27 pm, they didn’t have much time to assess the damage to the park, so the Chief started barking orders into the radio. “All, Air Attack Team members, this is Blade Ranger, please report.”

_“Patch here. The tower is secure.”_ The dispatcher chirped, her position as first to report well ingrained into the team’s system.

The mechanic, on the other tire, usually reported last, but given the situation, it wasn’t the fact he jumped in early was too surprising. _“Maru, the mechanic’s hanger is a mess after that last shock, but that shouldn’t interfere with my duties.”_

_“Windlifter. I am safe but unable to open my hanger door.”_ If this annoyed the Skycrane, he didn’t let the fact reach his voice.

_“SMOKEJUMPERS ALL PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR. WE ARE CURRENTLY IN THE MAIN HANGER EATING, BUT THAT CAN BE PUT ON THE BACK BURNER IF NEEDED.”_ Blade could hear the exhaustion at the edges of Avalanche’s voice, but only because he had known the dozer for years. 

_“Compass Rose, here.”_ The jump plane’s response was surprisingly chipper given the situation. _“Dipper and the SEATs are with me. We are heading to the main hanger now.”_

“Alright, Maru, you are with me. We are going to rescue Windlifter. Everyone else, be ready to meet in the main hanger in 10 minutes.” Then as an afterthought, he added…“Make sure that you leave all the doors open. We don’t want anyone else to get suck.”

There was a chorus of Rogers on the radio, and Blade set out to rescue his lieutenant from his hanger.

* * *

The Air Attack Team didn’t end up deploying that night. Jammer had insisted that Pulaski, the interpretative rangers, and the road crew were perfectly capable of managing that evening’s batch of landslides. The superintendent wanted to keep Blade’s crew as a reserve, just in case the park had additional emergencies tomorrow. They were ordered to stand down, get a solid meal, and a good night’s sleep.

What Jammer failed to realize is that no one sleeps when they are holding their breath hoping that the earth doesn’t move beneath them. Every time the Chief started to doze off, he would feel a tremor beneath his tires…the vast majority of these tremors were a product of his exhausted brain, but they still caused the breath to catch in his throat. Finally, he realized that he kept on waking up his fellow vehicles and he decided that he should probably sleep in his own hanger instead of disturbing his team’s sleep.

Blade wasn’t the only one for whom sleep was elusive. Maru had given up catching some shut-eye around 11 pm. As the Chief rolled across the tarmac, he could see the light on in mechanic’s hanger and hear the soft strains of Maru’s off-tune humming. For a few moments, Blade considered checking in on his friend…but he knew why Maru was awake. While the mechanic’s hanger tended to look like a tornado had hit it on the best of days, everyone knew it was managed chaos and Maru would know if you moved a single tool. The fact that the earthquake had disturbed his domain was probably driving the tug nuts, and the sooner that he could return his turf to order, the sooner the mechanic might actually get some shut-eye.

Quietly, Blade picked his way across base, navigating only by the light of the stars. He didn’t even turn on the lights when he reached his hanger. Instead, he let habit guide him through the dark space. Blade settled his tires on his well warn sleeping mat, and finally allowed himself to relax into sleep…knowing that his crew was safe and would be ready to face any possible disaster tomorrow at dawn.

* * *

**_Term_** \- Earthquake- _An earthquake defined as the movement of the earth's surface caused by the sudden release of energy. While most earthquakes are caused by movement along cracks in the rocks, they can also be caused by volcanic activity, meteor impacts, landslides, or even manmade activities such as mining or nuclear explosions. While over 1.3 million earthquakes happen in a given year, the majority of earthquakes that occur on earth are so weak that you can’t feel them._


	6. F is for Fault Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Avalanche is away, the smokejumpers will play...much to Dynamite's and Blade's annoyance.

The Park Service geologists kept on saying that the park itself wasn’t particularly seismically active…but that didn’t stop them from rolling around the park poking their tines into crevices and rappelling down cliffs. They seemed like a crew of vehicles that was perfectly capable of making their own trouble, which made the fact that Avalanche was currently loaned to them on a project that much more concerning. But it had been a moist spring, and the dozer hadn’t voiced any concerns about helping out on the survey, so Blade had signed all of the paperwork.

Sadly, the Chief hadn’t realized exactly what role Avalanche had started to play on the smokejumper team…

“When am I getting him back?” Dynamite’s voice had dropped into an annoyed purr that would send lesser vehicles running, but only served to let Blade know that the captain of the smokejumpers was about ready to snap.

“What did Drip do this time?” Blade didn’t look up from his paperwork.

“It wasn’t Drip this time.” The ATV actually seemed to deflate a little as she spoke. “It was Blackout.”

This actually got the Chief to look up from the form that he had been completing and give Dynamite his full attention. “Do I want to know?”

“I doubt it, which is why I am only going to tell you that it involved a visitor, a cliff, and most of the afternoon.” Blade groaned at the ATV’s words, knowing that he was going to get a boatload of paperwork from the incident. Dynamite actually had the good sense to look a bit sheepish. “So…do you think that we can get Avalanche back? Yes, I am perfectly capable of managing the team by myself, but when we don’t have work to do they keep on finding more and more creative ways to create trouble and each incident involves a pile of paperwork which I have to fill out and unfortunately I can’t be in two places at the same time.”

“I will see what I can do, but…” Blade started but was interrupted by a crash and a yelp that sounded a lot like his Lieutenant. “But you probably should go rescue Windlifter from the current shenanigans.”

In the end, Blade was able to find a solution, though it was probably not the solution that Dynamite wanted. Instead of getting Avalanche back from the park service geologists, he loaned them the entire team of smokejumpers with the understanding that the Chief could have them back if any fires occurred within the boundaries of Piston Peak. Turns out there is only so much trouble a vehicle can get into while digging fault line transects.

* * *

**_Term_** \- Fault Line- _A fault is a fracture in the rock on which different layers of material have moved in relation to each other. Faults are usually divided into three distinct categories: strike-slip, dip-slip, and oblique-slip. Rapid movements along a fault can cause an earthquake. Fault lines are usually mapped either by from the air using aerial photography or on the ground by mapping rock layers and digging trenches._


	7. G is for Government Improvement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cad dropped our budget again..." Cheif Blade Ranger practically growled in frustration.

Chief Blade Ranger probably shouldn’t have flown back to the Piston Peak Air Attack Base after the department head meeting. He was clearly unable to pass two of the I’M SAFE risk management checklist items…but he also knew if he stayed at the lodge he would do something stupid. So he had gotten clearance from the tower to take off, and tried not to let his stress and turbulent emotions from clouding his judgment too badly. When he finally landed, Blade didn’t have to pretend that everything was fine anymore, and he dropped heavily on the tarmac.

“What did that blacktop ever do to you?” Maru hollered from where he was working in his mechanic’s hanger.

“Cad dropped our budget again…” Blade practically growled in frustration as he rolled across the apron and parked himself at the mouth of the workshop.

Maru looked at the air boss for a few long seconds, then the tug sighed. Without a word pulled out one of his ramps and pushed it to one of the far equipment shelves. After digging around in a box labeled spark plugs for a few minutes, he returned with two small cans of high grade. Methodically Maru opened the containers and put in straws. Then he placed one of the cans directly in front of Blade, who hadn’t even twitched a rotor through the whole process.

“Alright.” Maru took a long sip from his can of high grade. “I think that we are now ready to have this conversation.” 

Blade just continued to glare, but now he was glaring at the can of high grade in front of him instead of just at the world in general.

“It is medicinal.” Maru finally stated when it was clear that the helicopter wasn’t going to spill the beans. Blade arched an eyebrow. “It is medicinal and I am sticking to it. You honestly need something to mellow your nerves out so that I can get a straight story out of you.”

“And you?”

“I thought that would be obvious.” Maru gave an eye roll, which of course, made Blade give a snort. The tug raised his can. “This is my serving of liquid sanity because the way you stormed in here, I suspect I am going to be needing it today.”

Blade paused for a moment and looked like he was going to argue…then the helicopter sank heavily on his tires. “The lodge construction has been going over budget, so they decided to pull a third of our operating funds to put in a slagging parking lot. A _Ford third_ of our operating funds, Maru.”

Maru let out a long, very colorful series of curses before lapsing into silence. The two vehicles sat there staring at each other for several long uncomfortable minutes. Then Maru put down his oil. “You stay here.”

Blade didn’t argue, but did he give his old friend an odd look. “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to go get Cabbie and see if Windlifter is free to fly up this evening because we are going to need a few more brains to sort this problem out.”

It wasn’t a great idea, but it was significantly better than anything that Blade had come up with so far so the helicopter let the mechanic focus trundle off to the tower to get on the radio. Once Maru had disappeared, Blade drained his can of oil in one go; then, after giving the mechanic’s can a good look he finished it off as well. After all, there were some problems that the Chief preferred to approach while drunk…and this was rapidly becoming one of them.

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Government Improvement _\- Physical improvements made to a National Park such as paving of roads, construction of trails, or building of utility mains that built by the government but benefit a concessioner. Examples include the National Park maintaining paths to and from a lodge or restaurant within the park._


	8. H is for Historian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where most Skycranes leaned on the power of their names to gain respect, Windlifter was determined to write his forge his own path.

It has been often said that one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover…and as far as Windlifter was concerned, one should also not judge a Skycrane by their name.

As far as helicopters went, they were a relatively small breed that made their home in the mountains near Portland, Oregon and while there specialize build made them in demand across the planet, Skycranes always seemed to make it back to the City of Roses at least once or twice a year. While they were known for being homebodies in Oregon, it was their names that tended to get attention when they worked abroad. And it was his model’s naming tradition had left Windlifter feeling rather exposed his entire life.

It was hard to shine at school when you were parked in between Albert Einstein and Isaac Newton. Few took your creative endeavors seriously when a Leonardo da Vinci or Johnny Cash was available. Running for student office was a nonstarter because everyone knew that either Mahatma Gandhi or Nelson Mandela was going to get it. Chuck Norris and the Incredible Hulk were always picked first for sports, …and the Dalai Lama never got in trouble no matter how many pranks he pulled. The whole dating scene was the worse. How could a helicopter with the name of Windlifter ever compete with an Elvis, Brad Pitt…or of course, James Bond?

Things only got worse when Windlifter became an adult, and Skycrane spotting practically became a sport. There were even some places in Australia where you could buy booklets to track which helicopters you had sighted, and some vehicles actually traveled to try to make sure every helicopter in there booklet had been sighted at least once. Helicopter’s like Elvis even developed groupies...a helicopter like Windlifter wasn’t even included.

So, Windlifter decided to change his fate. He turned his focus to learning everything he could at the tires of his elders. From the Mojave and the Choctaw, he learned the Sikorsky helicopter origin stories and element myths. Under the guidance of these older aircraft, he discovered that he loved stories more than anything else and he use that knowledge to make a choice that no other Skycrane had made before him…he went to college.

As a student, he spent every summer and fall doing back-breaking work hauling timber under logging contracts so that he could devote spring semester sitting tire to tire with much smaller vehicles in the classroom. By the time he had finished up his undergrad in English, one of his teachers had pulled him aside and asked him what his next plans were. Windlifter really didn’t have any, so he told the teacher the truth. He was only in school because of his love of knowledge and stories, and he would try to remain in school as long as he could so that he could continue to soak up more knowledge.

Apparently, that was the correct answer, because the next thing Windlifter knew he was in grad school and collecting helicopter oral traditions for his thesis. Between scholarships and grants, Windlifter only had to work in the field during the summers. He switched to firefighting to accommodate his new schedule and spent the winters networking with the other branches of the Sikorsky tree.

While the ‘hawks’ were interesting, it was the ‘stallions’ that held Windlifter’s fascination…Well, if he was going to be honest, it was one particular graceful Sea Stallion that captured his full attention, but their stories of life startling both land and water were a bonus. Within the year, Windlifter would find himself with both a Ph.D. and a brand new family.

But as glorious as his family was, Windlifter was faced with the full cost of comfortably rising the next generation. Even as tenure track professor and with his sweetheart working in the coast guard, they were not bringing in enough to make ends meet once they had little mouths to feed. At times like this, he would have turned for support from his kind, his tribe, but his fellow Skycranes had never accepted his choice of marrying an outsider. And while every other type of Sikorsky adored the young helicopters, the Skycranes would never accept them as one of their own.

So Windlifter renewed his firefighting credentials and applied to be part of the Air Attack Team in a nearby National Park. That way, he could bring in an additional income during the summer months and be close enough to support his wife. Because while most Skycranes rested their rotors on the power of their names Windlifter was going to write his own history...and if the tales around the campfire at the Piston Peak Air Attack Base were any indication, it was going to be a history worth telling.

* * *

**_Term_** \- Historian _\- A position within the Park Service that helps to record, preserves, and present the history of the Park. This position requires an advance degree and training in history, archives, library science, archeology, or related fields._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...this was not the story I was expecting to write when I created this prompt, but that is Windlifter for you. The whole Skycrane having famous names is something that is kind of unique for this particular model, with many aircraft being named after famous people and places. And for those who are curious, Skycrane fan clubs do exist and are particularly popular in Australia.


	9. I is for Interpretation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jammer became Superintendent he discovered that Piston Peaks National Park out of compliance with accessibility laws so he called in help. Lil' Dipper is more than willing assist...probably a bit too willing, in fact...

Superintendent Jammer really didn’t want to admit all the things that were wrong with Piston Peaks National Park when he had stepped into the lead position. Maintenance had not been completed, equipment was falling apart...have the park had just been burnt to a crisp...But the most frustrating aspect of taking over the park was being handed the stack of pending lawsuits. 90% of which could have been prevented if Ranger Jammer would have been informed about the areas that visitors wanted the park to improve. 

Now everyone knew that National Parks had some wiggle room when it came to accessibility. They were specifically designed to be wild spaces after all. As long as the park was making a good faith effort to give every vehicle a positive experience. 

Some National Parks did a remarkable job of making sure that every type of vehicle could explore the park in their own way. Death Valley, in particular, exemplified this. They had miles of dirt roads allowing cars to explore the desert, they had twenty miles of rail, and they even had two fly-in campgrounds, the only two in the entire Park System. The only type of vehicle that didn’t have specific facilities were watercraft, but the park had created a number of interpretative signs indicating how far below sea level they were at different scenic locations and a surprisingly large number of boats were towed through the park each year.

Other National Parks were not as successful meeting the needs of their various visitors. Yellowstone National Park’s density altitude made it impossible for most aircraft to successfully land and then take off. As a result, none of the park’s airstrips were open to the public. Then there was Mammoth Caves, a park that had strict size cut-offs. While there were always visitors that were upset by these types of restrictions, most understood why they existed. And now that the National Park system was embracing the use of VR, most were willing to use technology to experience the national treasures they were unable to physically see in person. 

With all the advancements being made in National Park accessibility for everyone, Piston Peaks was rapidly falling behind the times. The fact that it was one of a handful of parks with that actually had aircraft on staff, had only made the situation worse. Now that this issue had been brought to Jammer’s attention, he only had a couple of months to get the park back on track. And he was going to use every resource in his arsenal to do that, including involving the aircraft he already had on staff...which is why Little Dipper was currently drinking coffee taking up most of the space in the Interpretive Ranger break room. 

“The Chief said you needed help with a project.” The brightly painted plane nearly bounced on her tires when Jammer entered the space.

“Did he let you know what it was?” Jammer asked as he maneuvered his way around the plane’s significant wingspan. Dipper simply bobbed a negative, an action the brought her wingtips within inches the room’s walls. Jammer winced at that. “Are you comfortable in this space, or would you prefer we find somewhere with more room?”

Dipper chuckled at that. “Don’t worry, believe it or not, I have managed to squeeze my way into smaller rooms. So, what is this top-secret, special project that you need my help on? I can’t stand the suspense any longer!”

Jammer explained and Dipper, well Dipper wasn’t particularly impressed with the complexity of his problem.

“So, if I get this right, you are trying to make Piston Peak more accessible to aircraft?”

Jammer bobbed and affirmative. “Specifically, fixed-winged aircraft. We have gotten a number of complaints about a lack of ‘interpretative resources’ and activities for all aircraft, but in particular fixed-winged aircraft.”

Dipper made an Oh motion with her lips. “I guess that makes sense. I was kind of surprised that the park didn’t have any routes when I first arrived.”

“Routes?”

“Hm, it is difficult to explain to a ground vehicle, but the best way to describe it would be a trail, but for planes in the sky!” 

“Planes need trails?” Jammer was incredibly surprised, he had kind of just assumed that aircraft flew where ever they felt like it. 

“Of course we do.” Dipper grinned at Jammer as though she was letting in on an important secret. “Like any vehicle, we like to be able to observe the scenery. Ideally, we would like to be able to see National Park’s sights up close, and when I say up close I mean less than 5,000 feet AGL, but the closer you are to the ground the closer you are to a boatload of hazards. Routes are well-mapped sky trails that are free hazards such as radio antennas, powerlines, or other tall structures. They also are designed to help the aircraft avoid dangerous wind phenomenons such as mountain waves. A mapped route has been flown at many times of day and under a bunch of weather conditions so that the aircraft knows that they are safe traveling as long as they follow the route restrictions.”

“Ah, that does make sense. Would you by chance have any suggestions for possible park routes?”

Dipper chewed her lip for a moment. “That is a bit of a challenge. Setting up a route is a specialized skill...that said, I can give you some ideas of where to start.”

The flying boat then had Jammer pull get some maps of the park, and after he collected a stack of road atlas she had him drive up to the lodge’s air traffic control tower to borrow a proper set of aviation maps. Looking at the differences between the driving atlas and the aviation maps, it was clear that ground and air vehicles utilized the park in completely different ways. As the plane lectured about what the key tourist locations for aircraft were in the park, Jammer couldn’t help but feel guilty about everything he had overlooked and he made a mental note to arrange for meetings with Bellmouth and Bosman to make sure that their rail and watercraft visitors had the resources they needed. 

“Oh, and don’t forget to have your staff take a ride through the routes on Cabbie when they are finished so they can properly describe it to the guests.” Dipper finished as she wrapped up her two-hour lecture.

“I will make sure to do that. Thank you again for all of your help today.” Jammer gave the plane a genuine smile. “If you think of anything else that the Park can do to improve the experience of visiting aircraft, please do not hesitate to let me know.” 

Dipper just bobbed and excused herself letting Superintendent Jammer get to work trying to repair decades worth of oversite. 

\------------------------------

**Term** \- Interpretation- _Any park activity that is designed to inspire and educate visitors about the park. Interpretation resources can be passive such as displays, museums, pamphlets, nature walking trails, or historical markers which allow the visitor to explore at their own pace. They can also be active interpretative resources such as campfire programs, guided hikes, classes, videos, or podcasts which are often facilitated by a member of staff and require a dedicated amount of time. Regardless of if the program is active or passive; all park interpretation should help increase the visitors' understanding, appreciation, stewardship, and/or enjoyment of the park._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an interesting one to take on...while you probably can't tell while reading my fanfiction, I am someone with a disability. ADA law makes a big difference in my everyday life and I have worked with a couple of National Park/Monuments to help design resources to help them design resources that will be more accessible for people like me. Looking at the world of Cars and Planes, it is clear that they would need legislation similar to ADA to help everyone be able to navigate. This is my first attempt to figure out what this would mean in practice.


	10. J is for Jurisdiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dusty is having a hard time figuring out the Air Attack Team's pecking order...Dipper isn't helping...

One problem with ground vehicles is they really didn’t understand why aircraft were so obsessed with pecking orders. Their rules of the road were so simple that most vehicles were able to self-police their interactions. What they failed to realize was that air space didn’t, and in fact, couldn’t work that way. It was a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle where aircraft with different speed capabilities and destinations all had to fit together. All with significantly higher stakes too because while an accident in the ground may cause severe injury, an in-air collision was practically always fatal for both planes and any passengers they may have been carrying.

Unfortunately for one Dusty Crophopper, when he arrived at the Piston Peak Air Attack Base, he had managed to royally screw up and had failed to insert himself correctly in the air traffic pattern. The crop duster fully realized that he was incredibly lucky to have only damaged his pride and blown his chance at a positive first impression. He had been incredibly stupid, and his actions could have easily led to him being grounded or even death.

Now he was going to have to work extra hard to understand the lay of the land to make sure that he didn’t make another mistake. The problem was, Dusty had no clue how to find out the base’s pecking order. Asking the ground crew was kind of out of the question…Maru took way to much glee in his modifications, Patch was kind of aloof up in her tower, and the Smokejumpers were just plain insane. Being a crop duster, Dusty had never really been comfortable around big planes and Cabbie hung out with the Smokejumpers, so that was a big nope. Windlifter would have been a great option if the Skycrane had been capable of giving a straight answer…and Chief Ranger was the boss. Dusty was not going to risk being thrown off of base by embarrassing himself again in front of the helicopter.

So Dusty reached out to the last option left…Lil’ Dipper. A plane that seemed a bit too enthusiastic to help…

“So, I managed to snag one of the chalkboards so we can diagram everything out so that we can make sure that there is absolutely no confusion.” Dipper sounded absolutely pleased with herself and Dusty was started to be glad that he insisted that they have this meeting in the main hanger instead of Dipper’s personal hanger or the guest one that Dusty had been assigned.

“It can’t be that complicated…can it?”

“I thought so when I first arrived, but aerial firefighting isn’t flying into an airport’s controlled airspace. It is more like a race; instead, the position of each vehicle and the context of the order will inform you which order takes priority.” Dipper gave her best smile. “So, are you ready to get started?”

“I guess…”

“Good. Let’s start with a simple one.” She scrolled Chief Blade Ranger on the top of the blackboard. “As you know, the Chief is the head honcho on base. Under most circumstances, his orders trump all of the other ones because he is in charge of the department. But because we are fighting fires, there are always exceptions.”

“Like?”

“I am glad you asked. So the first big one would be Maru!” Dipper added Maru to the blackboard. “If the mechanic spots a mechanical issue, he can ground a vehicle or stop an operation, no questions asked.”

Dusty nodded, “Make sense.”

“Okay, let’s go to the next vehicle on your list…” The plane did a drumroll as she bounced up and down on her tires before she wrote the next name on board. “Patch! As you probably know, Patch is our dispatcher and because she keeps track of the weather, the fire reports, and which supporting aircraft are entering the air space, her words have a lot of sway on things.”

“Ah, so both medical and dispatch have the ability to make calls that may contradict the Chiefs. I guess that is fairly similar to a normal airport. The Patch is like the tower, and everyone knows that you should always listen to the mechanic.” 

“Well,” Dipper shrugged her wings, “now we get into the more complicated examples. It is not just ground aircraft that can mix things up a bit. Let’s take Cabbie for an example. As a jump plane, he is responsible for making sure that the smokejumpers make it to the ground safely and that they have the air support they need.”

And then, she explained how different aircraft could give an order that trumped the other orders in excruciating detail…for the next two and a half hours…

Every time Dusty though he was starting to figure things out, Dipper gave him some more exceptions to the rule. If the cropduster was to be completely honest, he was more confused about how the Air Attack Team worked than when this conversation started. So when Dipper started the review, he knew what he had to do…

“So, do you have any questions?” The flying boat asked cheerfully.

“Nope!” Dusty replied with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Thank you. I think I have a handle on everything now.”

Dipper actually looked a bit disappointed, which only encouraged Dusty to move out of the hanger door a bit faster. Once in the safety of the great outdoors, he sighed to himself. It looked like some things he was just going to have to learn on the job…

* * *

**Term** \- Jurisdiction- _The power and authority that the Park Service is able to exercise over a park or monument. The US Park Service is allowed to have their own law enforcement officers and are allowed to create policies and regulations that are more restrictive than the surrounding area such as restrictions of the use of fire, transport of materials that may harbor invasive species, or closure of roads/trails._


	11. K is for Kiosk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinecone should have suspected something when the rest of her team went quiet...

Pinecone probably should have suspected something the moment that she couldn’t hear the rest of the team, but she had ignored the slight feeling of uncertainty because she was working on a different task than the other ground pounders. Most of the Piston Peak Air Attack Team was currently clearing brush and debris around a popular campsite in the hopes that it would prevent stray sparks from a campfire from starting a wildfire. While Pinecone was working in the same campground, she was collecting leaves and other plant specimens that would be pressed and put into a display to help visitors identify the vegetation found around the parking lot.

“Um…” An unfamiliar voice made a throat-clearing sound, as Pinecone reached up to pluck a particular lovely branch of Jeffrey Pine. She spun around still clutching the branch to see a pair of wide-eyed children staring at her. Given their size, it was clear that the little vehicles were far from being street legal, which probably meant that their parents were somewhere in the campground.

“What are you doing?” The smaller of the two cars asked.

“I am collecting vegetation specimens for a new kiosk.” Pinecone explained with a soft smile.

“What is a kiosk?” Little one queried.

“It is a display that helps people learn new things.” Pinecone extended her rake towards the kiosk in the middle of the campground. “Right now, it is helping people learn about constellations, but when the rangers finish it up, you will be able to learn about the different plants that live around the campground.”

“Like what?” The second car finally spoke up.

“Hm…” Pinecone got a thoughtful look as she tried to determine which plant facts would most entertain the children. “Well, you will be able to learn the names of the different trees and flowers. You might even learn some interesting facts about them like the fact that Giant Sequoia can grow over 250 tall or that the Jeffrey Pine’s bark smells like vanilla.” The little cars' eyes got big at Pinecone's comment, but the smaller car wasn’t sure that she could be trusted.

“I don’t believe you.” They pouted.

“Then why don’t you see for yourself?” Pinecone teased and motioned to the tree next to her. “This tree is a Jeffrey Pine, which is why I was picking a branch. You can give the bark a smell and tell me what you think.”

The two cars didn’t need to be told twice. They were quickly pressed against the tree and breathing heavily. “It does smell like vanilla!”

“We totally have to bring this back with us for show and tell!” The larger of the two announced, and Pinecone had to fight a sinking feeling. It was clear she was going to have to introduce these two to parks rules.

“Have you learned about the Piston Peak’s rule to take nothing but photographs and leave nothing but tread marks?” When they nodded, Pinecone continued. “If you take that bark home, you would be taking something more than just a photo.”

“They are so small…” The cars looked so crestfallen. “No one would really notice if they were gone…”

“But if everyone took away the rocks that they thought were pretty soon, the rocks would be gone, and if everyone took away leaves or bark from the forest, then the creatures that use those things for food and shelter wouldn’t have the habitat that they need to survive.” Pinecone looked at both children in the eyes. “The fact that everything in that is natural to a National Park stays in the National Park is part of what makes Piston Peaks such a special place to visit. Do you understand?”

Both children nodded, but it was also clear that they were kind of disappointed that they wouldn’t be able to bring their special treasure home with them. It hurt Pinecone’s heart to see them looking so sad, but she also knew that she couldn’t make an exception for them. But after a moment, she thought of a compromise.

“Would you like me to put your treasures in a special place?”

The two vehicles nodded and reluctantly gave her the slivers of bark, which she tucked next to her tread after the two had scampered back to their parents. As soon as the children had disappeared, the rest of the smokejumpers practically appeared out of the woodwork.

“You were watching the whole time, weren’t you?” Pinecone glared at her fellow vehicles.

Drip shrugged. “We had finished up, and we didn’t want to interrupt.”

“AFTERALL IT WAS TOO CUTE OF A TEACHING MOMENT TO INTERUPT.”

Pinecone harrumphed, but didn’t fret when Avalanche insisted on hauling her bag of plant samples for her. The trip back to base was fairly uneventful. Drip and Blackout where too tired to do too many practical jokes, and even Avalanche seemed more mellow the average. After her plant samples had been dumped in the main hanger for sorting and pressing, the boys on the team hit the power washer to scrub off the sap clinging to their paint. Pinecone took the moment of quiet to head up to the little clearing behind the base.

To an outsider, the clearing didn’t look like much, but to those who knew what they were looking at, it was a treasure trove. Throughout the clearing was the collective hoarding of decades of Piston Peak Smokejumpers. Rocks and sheds and weirdly shaped sticks all held court in this sheltered spot. Now the only question was where was the right spot for the fragments she carried.

“I suspected I might find you here.” Dynamite stated as she leaned into a nearby tree. 

“A treasure is a treasure, no matter how simple they may seem to someone else.” Pinecone replied as she placed the pieces of bark in a place of pride among the pretty rocks and shed deere racks. Glancing over at Dynamite, she smiled. “While those children couldn’t take them home, the least I could do was make sure that their ‘treasures’ were put in a safe place.”

“You are a very good teacher.” At Dynamite’s words, Pinecone chuckled, and for a moment it looked like she might argue with her captain…then a loud clatter from camp interrupted the moment and the two burst into proper laughter. “Well, it sounds like I need to go rescue the aircraft from the more delinquent members of our team.”

* * *

 **Term** \- Kiosk- _Kiosks are small booths or buildings that are used for fee-collection and information distribution. Most National Parks and Monuments have kiosks at their park entrances._


	12. L is for Lookout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gone, but not forgotten...and Avalanche was going to make sure that it stayed that way.
> 
> Warning-While this chapter flowed out seamlessly in one sitting, I have also never cried so hard writing fanfiction. If you are prone to tearing up, this might be a good moment to grab some tissues.

The skies opened and poured a gentle rain across the mountains. The fine mist chased away the threat of fire, but wasn’t heavy enough to create the threat of landslides. This basically left the members of the Piston Peak Air Attack team with nothing to do…which was an incredible relief. After the long days of fighting fires, the ability to sleep long and catch up on chores was a luxury. One that Avalanche fully intended to take advantage of.

He had left his team painting the interior of the main hanger under the watchful eyes of Maru and Compass Rose, which had given him the freedom to climb to one of his favorite spots in the park. The Fireman’s Memorial Fire Lookout was located close enough to the base that Avalanche didn’t need to ask for a ride, but it was also far enough away that the little dozer could think, which the smokejumper captain needed to do every once in a while.

Avalanche didn’t read the interpretative signage as he rolled up the steep trail. He had been told a lot of the history written on the plaques around the campfire and lived the rest of it. Still, he couldn’t help but press his blade against some of the photos. Pictures of his team snug under Cabbie’s wing in the aftermath of Great Piston Peak Fire, of Dynamite when she became a National Forest Service fire instructor, or the last image that Maru had taken of Marianas Mars before her devastating crash.

At the top of the hill, Avalanche rolled up to a black, gray, and red tower. Knowing that no one was watching, he leaned into the struts of the tower, feeling the cool metal on his skin. After a moment, he located a name engraved into the lookout’s frame. The smokejumper took a deep breath and started to pour out his soul.

“HEY CABBIE, I KNOW THAT I HAVEN’T VISITED FOR A WHILE, BUT HONESTLY THE NEW BATCH OF SMOKEJUMPERS IS STILL PRETTY GREEN. ROSE IS DOING A GREAT JOB WRANGLING EVERYONE, BUT THERE ARE SOMEDAYS THAT I WISH THAT WE WERE STILL FLYING IN YOUR HOLD.” Avalanche’s voice caught in his throat for a moment. “I AM STARTING TO WONDER IF BLADE IS GETTING READY TO RETIRE. OUR AIR ATTACK TEAM JUST KEEPS GROWING AND THE PARK SERVICE IS LOOKING AT EXPANDING THE BASE AGAIN, BUT I THINK ALL OF THIS CHANGE IS STARTING TO WEAR ON THE CHIEF. I DON’T KNOW WHAT HE WILL DO WHEN HE DECIDES TO RETIRE, BUT I AM PRETTY SURE THAT WHATEVER IT IS, HE WILL BE GOOD AT IT. MARU’S STILL DOING GOOD, WINDLIFTER’S STILL WINDLIFTER, AND I DOUBT THAT THE BASE WILL BE SHAKING DIPPER ANYTIME SOON. HONESTY, YOU WOULD BE PROUD OF US. WE HAVE GONE FROM THE AIR ATTACK TEAM THAT EVERYONE CONSIDERED TO BE THE LAUGHING STOCK OF THE SERVICE, TO THE ONE THAT KIDS DREAM ABOUT JOINING WHEN THEY GROW UP.” Avalanche allowed tears to form at the corner of his eyes. “I JUST WISH YOU WERE HERE TO SEE IT. I JUST WISH THAT YOU COULD SEE WHAT YOU HELPED TO BUILD.”

Avalanche sat in the shelter and looked out through the rain at the park he had chosen to call home for over an hour. Then he motored his way back down to the ground. As he left the lookout tower, he gave the metal struts a final pat. Having flown with Cabbie for several years, the little dozer had learned that a C-119 never truly dies as long as a piece of them still flies, and as long as Avalanche lived he would make sure that the Piston Peak Smokejumpers kept the memory of the park’s first jump plane alive.

* * *

**Term** \- Lookout- _Once incredibly common in the west, fire lookout towers are now starting to disappear from America’s forests. They were originally created to help the forest and park quickly identify where fires were on the landscape, but now this service is often completed by aircraft. There are some remote locations where fire lookout towers are still staffed through the summer months, but across much of the country, historically important lookout towers have been rescued and turned into tools to help teach civilians about wildland firefighting. I have even seen a few new lookout towers that were specifically constructed to encourage park visitors to look at the landscape from a smoke spotter’s point of view._


	13. M is for Motor Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patch plays God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it is official...let's not do yesterday again. I ended up getting rear-ended on the interstate and it looks like I will moving pretty slow for the next couple of days. My fingers are crossed that I will be able to pour some of that discomfort into a couple of chapters of Warplane though. I think that is enough of an update, on to the story!

The short cut wasn’t safe on many levels, but for the life of them, the Rangers couldn’t stop people from using it. They had tried signs indicating letting vehicles know that it wasn’t a trail, they had tried signs indicating that the area was being revegetated and asking cars to stay off of it, they even put up some ‘danger’ signs. Nothing worked. The rangers had tried blocking the impromptu motor trail with ropes, with boulders, and even with a downed tree …heck they even tried putting up a fence that only ended up surviving a couple of hours.

At their wit's end, the interpretative rangers reached out to the various other departments for help and while they got a whole list of possible solutions, one stood out from the pack. Not because the solution seemed like a good idea but because it seemed so utterly hair-brained that it might actually have a chance of working. And knowing Piston Peak as you do, it will probably not surprise you that this particular idea was developed by the members of the Air Attack Team.

“We already have a number of cameras set up across the entire park for security and to track wildlife. Those cameras are already use a cell signal which allows vehicles to monitor them from a distance.” Patch explained. “In fact, I have used that camera network to help confirm and track the movement of wildfires when we couldn’t get an aircraft in the air. It would be relatively simple to rig up a camera monitoring the motor trail short cut that is causing all of the trouble.”

“And then we could use the video to contact the visitor about breaking the rules!” One of the law enforcement rangers interjected.

“We could, or we could literally talk to them before they got on the shortcut and prevent them from doing any more damage.”

“How?” Jammer asked, clearly curious about how this plan was going to work.

“Simple, in addition to the camera we are going to have to place a radio in the trees…”

* * *

The Smokejumpers had been more than willing to help get the camera and radio rigged up. The IT department had been a bit more reluctant, but had also eventually come to the idea and had rigged the feed so that Patch could keep an eye on the trail from her desk in the air attack base’s tower. Then all the dispatcher had to do was wait.

Luckily she didn’t have to wait for long. Within two hours of her vigil starting, three young vehicles came zipping into the camera’s view. From the turn of the lead car’s tires, it was clear that they were about to ignore the sign indicating that the ‘path’ was currently being revegetation and asking visitors to please remain on the paved trail. Patch held her breath and waited.

“Halt!” Patch boomed, using her most authoritative voice the moment that the lead car’s tire touched the dirt.

The cars on-screen jumped back and started to glance around, clearly trying to determine where the voice was coming from. When it became clear that no one was nearby, they tentatively place a tire on the dirt of the motor trail.

“I said, halt!” Patch thundered. “Have your fools not learned to read signs?”

This time the cars glanced around them…then their eyes slowly slid skyward.

“Yes, I am talking to you.” At this point, it was all the tug could do to keep a straight face. “The poor choice you were about to make not only put yourself at risk but also threatens to destroy a precious piece of this National Park. Too many places of this beautiful Earth have already been ruined by reckless actions for me to standby and simply watch. You may enjoy this national treasure, for after all, it has been protected for that purpose but keep your tires on the pavement.”

By this point, Patch was regretting the fact that video camera didn’t have sound because the cars on screen were clearly having an unexpected religious experience. After clearly saying some type of prayer, they continued up the trail, this time being very careful to set a single tire off of the trail’s asphalt. Patch managed to keep in her amusement until the vehicles had traveled out of view of the camera…then she started laughing so hard that she cried.

Her giggling had gotten the attention of a number of the smokejumpers and by the time Patch discouraged the third group of vehicles she had a full audience. In fact, she probably would have become concerned about the combined weight of all of the vehicles if a fire hadn’t been spotted on the north end of the park, and the whole gaggle had gone to work.

Over the next couple of days, more radio and camera setups were added at other locations around the park. Soon the Superintendent Jammer had a new problem, creating a schedule for who was manning the motor trail camera setup because now it seemed like half of the park’s staff wanted to be the voice on the radio.

* * *

**Term** \- Motor Trail- _The lowest class of unimproved road, only passible by 4X4 or other off-road vehicles. These trails are not created by Park staff. Instead they are created by visitors going off-road. Motor trails are considered a major problem in National Parks as they encourage visitors to participate in unsafe behavior, and these trails often cause damage to the park that is expensive/difficult to repair._


	14. N is for Naturevan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Smokejumpers might not be the best examples for children...

Consuming a bad batch of fuel could easily ruin anyone’s day, but a bad batch of fuel that took out the entire the Park’s entire interpretative ranger staff in the middle of fieldtrip season was ruining the Air Attack’s day in particular. While Ranger Jammer had kindly given the team a script of what was supposed to happen at each of the fieldtrip activity stations, things dissolved into chaos before the first batch of kids even arrived. Meteorology with Cabbie soon turned into the C-119 being treated like a jungle gym, while plant ID with Windlifter had really been an excuse for storytime from the start. Blade was able to handle the safety briefing but only because he glared the students into submission…Then there were the Smokejumpers who had been supposed to teach the kids about how to identify animal tracks…

“You taught the kids how to build and light a campfire?”

“AND HOW TO PROPERLY PUT IT OUT.” Avalanche added proudly…clearly missing their Chief’s incredulous tone.

“But you taught a school’s worth of third-graders how to light fires.”

“Well,” Dynamite squared her tires and stared Blade Ranger down, “it kept the kids' attention.”

That had been very true. While the other rotations had struggled keeping the kids on task, the fire making activity had kept them riveted. And while Blade highly disagreed with the Smokejumpers’ choice in teaching materials, he couldn’t argue with their classroom management.

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Naturevan _\- A mobile interpretative field museum, used to educate and manage temporary concentrations of visitors or allow for education outside of the park boundaries. Popular topics of Naturevan exhibits include identification of wildflowers, information about animal migrations, and fall foliage guides. Naturevans may be equipped with projection systems and lights to facilitate campfire programs._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was officially the shortest story of the collection, but good things come in small packages. Also, just for your own information, the author of this story fully supports the Smokejumpers in their endeavors and thinks that children should learn how to be responsible and respect fire from a young age. :)


	15. O is for Overflow Camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone decided that Drip should go on this mission to gain experience...it goes about as well as one would expect, but at least he can manage to make passible coffee.

Drip could swear that he had never been this hot before in his life. The sun was beating down on his canopy, and even if he had the option to move, there was absolutely nowhere to hide on the wide expanse of baked clay. The heat coming off the dirt airstrip was so bad that you could actually mirage it was trying to form. 

Still, the little vehicle didn’t complain, because he knew just how important this work was. A military aircraft doing on training flight had gone down somewhere in Death Valley’s maze-like mountains without even the murmur of an ELT. Given the difficulty of the search, the National Park’s resources had quickly been overwhelmed, and the Superintendent requested outside help. Knowing the time-sensitive nature of the accident, Superintendent Jammer had volunteered Cabbie to act as the mission’s air boss and deployed him to Death Valley that evening.

It wasn’t particularly safe to have an aircraft operating without some form of ground support, so Chief Ranger had insisted that Cabbie bring at least one of the smokejumpers to set up camp and keep track of fuel usage. While all of the Smokejumpers had wanted to go on the excursion, Drip had been picked because of his weight (only Dynamite weighed less) and as the most junior member of the team Cabbie thought it would be a good idea to give him some more ‘in the field’ experience outside of Piston Peak National Park.

The two vehicles technically broke the rules flying into the Furnace Creek Airport, given the emergency services nature of the flight the NPS wasn’t going to make a fuss about the flight. That said, they also weren’t going to make any accommodations for the big aircraft either, which meant that didn’t even have space for Cabbie on the over crowed tie down area.

After speaking with the IC, it was pretty clear given the high number of visitors that it wasn’t going to be space to base aerial search of the park out of either the Furnace Creek or Stovepipe Wells Airports. Which only left one option for the temporary airbase…Chicken Strip.

Death Valley National Park had a mixed relationship with Chicken Strip. Calling the gravel airstrip rustic would be more polite than the strip probably deserved. In reality, it was a somewhat level dirt patch that bush planes could use to explore the Saline Valley and the most adventurous aircraft could use for a little backcountry fly-in camping. The park service had tried to officially try to close it several times in the past, to the point that had systematically ticketed visitors for a while, but at some point, they realized that the attempts were futile.

Cabbie had been the first of the search aircraft to land at Chicken Strip, and he had left Drip on the ground to claim a spot and set up camp while the C-119 set off to help coordinate the search. For the first three hours, things at the gravel strip were pretty boring. It only took a couple of minutes to pound some spikes into the dirt and stretch out some construction tape to mark out a reasonably sized camping spot for Cabbie. It was the biggest camping space that Drip had ever staked out, but Dynamite had given him very specific instructions on just how much room those twin tails needed.

Space secured, coffee pot unpacked, and fire stand set up, Drip wanted to explore the surrounding area…but instead turned his attention to helping make the little airstrip a little more comfortable to transit. He bent his claw to filling some potholes in the gravel and was about to level out the first of the bumps, when he heard the chatter of an aircraft coming in for final approach. Scooting off to the end of the airstrip, he watched as a Birddog came in for a landing. Glancing around, the plane focused its attention on the only other vehicle on site.

“So, where are we supposed to camp around here?” The plane looked down its nose at Drip, who motioned with his claw toward some smaller fly-in camping spots that were marked out with rocks, and the plane trundled off before the skid steer could say a word.

As the day went on, Drip continued to fill in holes, flatten the runway, and point aircraft to the campsites that were still open. Unfortunately, between the searchers and the tourists, it was only a matter of time before every campsite was full, and the planes started to try to claim Cabbie’s spot on the apron.

“That spot is already taken!” The skid steer dropped the rock he had been moving off the strip and raced over.

“You don’t need that much space.” The plane stared down its nose in distain.

“I don’t, but my team does. Go see if you can double up with an aircraft at one of the larger campsites.” Drip tried to channel his inner Dynamite and let his engine growl. After a few tense moments and some heated discussion, the small aircraft finally backed off.

This, of course, was not the only aircraft that tried to still the camping spot that Drip had claimed. Soon, it seemed like the only thing that Drip could do to make sure that Cabbie would have to spend the night parked on the gravel strip itself was to stay parked in the camping area he had staked out and growled at any airplanes that tried to take it from him.

By the time the sun was setting, and Cabbie finally returned to camp, Drip was absolutely thrilled to see him…but the way that the old plane was holding his wings indicated that Cabbie’s day had been as stressful, if not more stress full as Drip’s. Starting up the coffee pot, Drip watched as the other planes quickly swarmed around him, some of them angrily. Cabbie did his best to sooth everyone’s feathers. But when Drip pulled up with a large mug of firehouse brew, it was easy to see the relief in the plane’s eyes. 

“Give me a moment,” Cabbie said with the finality of an order as he followed Drip back to their campsite and settled heavily on his tires. The big plane took a long gulp of coffee and closed his eyes with a sigh. He sat there perfectly still, just enjoying the feeling of solid dirt under his tires. Then he opened his eyes, and Drip could see the old plane switching gears. Turning to the uncomfortable planes sitting next to him, Cabbie motioned with a wing. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

It was truly amazing just how quickly bush planes can move over an unpaved surface. Drip couldn’t help but giggle at the scattering aircraft. Cabbie raised an eyebrow at the Smokejumper’s amusement, after shrugging his wings he turned his attention to more pressing matters such as what was for dinner.

Oh, and if you are wondering, none of the planes bother Drip for the rest of the search.

* * *

**Term** \- Overflow Camping- _Overflow camping occurs when the primary campsites are taken and so groups camp in other locations. Some National Parks and Forests have designated overflow campsites already constructed and ready for when they need them. These sites usually have fewer facilities then the primary campsites and are usually designed for short-term or staff use. In some cases, informal overflow campsites are set up by visitors. Sadly, creating these non-official overflow campsites caused long-lasting damage in some National Parks. If visiting a National Park, please only camp in designated campsite!_


	16. P is for Patrol Cabin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the weather turns south, Blade has to go to ground...

When Patch had gotten on the radio to warn them that weather was headed her way, Windlifter was sent back to base. When Patch announced that the National Weather Service had just put out a Severe Thunderstorm Watch, Blade went into overdrive trying to get the fire penned in before the storms hit and made the situation worse. For a moment, it looked like the Air Attack Team was going to win that race…but just for a moment…

 _“Chief…”_ The team’s jump plane held an unusually high level of concern.

“What is it Cabbie?” Blade tried not to snap as he pulled a sliver of focus away from containing the fire in front of them.

 _“I think it is time to get everyone on the ground.”_ The C-119’s voice was rock steady as always but was also wound tight with stress. _“I haven’t seen a storm this bad outside of a hurricane.”_

For the first time, Blade looked up from the fire and saw the storm towering above the horizon. The clouds were turning a sickly color of green, which forecasted nasty situation was brewing.

 _“That is it. I am calling it.”_ Cabbie announced before switching channels to the park-wide emergency channel. _“Pan, Pan, Pan. The Piston Peak Air Attack Team has issued a Severe Thunderstorm Warning Piston Peak National Park and the surrounding area. This line of storms is moving from North to Northeast. This storm is producing high winds and large hailstones. All vehicles should seek immediate shelter. I say again; all vehicles should seek immediate shelter. Pan, Pan, Pan. The Piston Peak Air Attack Team had issued a Severe Thunderstorm Warning for Piston Peak National Park and the surrounding area. This line of storms is moving…”_

As Cabbie continued to do his duty as a designated SKYWARN Severe Weather Spotter to notify the park about the approaching danger, the Chief turned his attention to the team. Dipper was the easiest member to deal with. After having her dump her load of retardant on the leading edge of the fire, he sent her fleeing due east. With her tanks empty and her engines at full throttle, she should be able to outrun the storm, land at a nearby airport, and then return once the weather was clear. The smokejumper situation a bit more complicated, but Dynamite had already pulled out the park’s map and created a safe route to cover for her team. With the smokejumpers on their way, Blade turned to head back to base.

 _“You are not going to outrun this storm, sir.”_ Cabbie slipped back into the Air Attack channel as Patch took up the responsibility of getting the word out to the rangers, park staff, and visitors. _“I suggest that you divert to the Wheel Slip Patrol Cabin located two nautical miles away at your 3 o’clock position.”_

“Wilco, diverting to Wheel Slip Patrol Cabin. Fire Chief, out.” Blade acknowledged Cabbie’s instruction and cleared the radio channel allowing the jump plane to vector the rest of the team to safety. The C-119 spoke with clipped experience, rattling out commands even as he pushed his engines to navigate a path around the worst of the storm. 

It was time to trust his team and get himself to safety. The rumble of thunder that was beginning to vibrate in the air only emphasized that point because while Cabbie could keep flying after taking a couple of bolts of lightning, Blade knew that he probably wouldn’t survive the experience. He barely made it to the patrol cabin with the first wind driven raindrops started to prick his sides. 

Glancing around the rustic structure, Blade found the Wheel Slip Patrol Cabin to be little more than four walls, a wood stove, and a roof…but that is all it needed to be. The cabin wasn’t meant to be luxurious or even regularly used for camping. Instead, it was meant as basic housing for rangers working in the backcountry and as a shelter of last resort for park guests caught in severe weather. As the wind shook the windows, and the rain poured onto the roof, it was clear that this little structure was up to its task.

…But it appeared that Blade wasn’t the only vehicle that needed the cabin's shelter. There was a series of headlights that the Chief could see trying to make their way through the downpour. There was someone out there trying to find the cabin, but the storm was making visibility difficult. As much as Blade wanted to go out and help, he knew that a helicopter was worthless in this type of weather, but after a moment, he realized that there was something he could do.

He flicked on his running lights to give the vehicles a beacon to drive towards, and the vehicles trapped in the rain instantly realigned their vector. The first vehicle Blade could make out was Dynamite. The little ATV was muddy, but clearly doing her best to find a safe path for her team through the storm. Drip, Pinecone, and Blackout were following close behind their captain, while Avalanche brought up the rear making sure that no one fell behind.

Wordlessly, Blade moved deeper into the cabin giving his smokejumpers enough space to squeeze in. It was a tight fit…so tight that two of Blades rotor blades were touching the back wall, and three of the smaller vehicles were pressed up against his skin. Still, after some jostling, they all managed to fit.

“WELL, THAT WAS EXCITING.” Avalanche drawled, as though their mad dash across the forests and the storm raging at his bumper was a perfectly normal experience.

“I vote that the girls get the power washer first.” Pinecone sighed, as she resisted the urge to shake free some of the mud coating her undercarriage.

Dynamite opened her mouth, when a particularly severe gust of wind slammed against the building. Everyone was stunned into scilence, and for a moment, it felt like the entire cabin might come down around them. But the howling outside quieted as quickly as it had come.

“Microburst.” Blackout whispered.

“Po-ho-no…” Drip replied, his eyes wide.

“It will be…” Dynamite tried to break the tension in the room but was interrupted by the sound of something far harder than rain hitting the roof. Even if the banging sound hadn’t drown out any possibility of speech, the way that the roof was flexing under the strain of the storm would have stunned them to silence.

It took a few long seconds for Blade to peel his gaze from the ceiling to look out the still open door. When he did, it was easy to see the cause of the noise. The rain had been replaced by a curtain of hail…and the hailstones were at least the size of golf balls.

The sight made Blade really hoped Dipper and Cabbie had been able to outrun this storm, because that size of hail could easily punch a hole in a wing…or worse. But there was no way for the Chief to get in contact with the rest of the Air Attack Team. A radio signal simply couldn’t penetrate this much interference. All he could do was wait with the smokejumpers and hope that storm blew over before the patrol cabin’s roof damaged.

As the storm raged on, Blade could feel the smokejumpers pressing closer to him as though the helicopter could stand in for Cabbie’s sheltering wings. It was not until the hail transitioned back to rain, then the rain lessoned allowing the first slivers of sunlight to peek through the darkened sky did the little ground pounders relax.

“Well…” Dynamite looked out at the now ice-covered landscape, “let’s not do that again.”

“AGREED!” Blade was pretty sure that all of the smokejumpers had spoken up, but Avalanche drowned them all out. Now that they weren’t all fearing for their lives, the little cabin was starting to feel fairly cramped and when Pinecone accidently scratched Blade’s tail boom it was clearly time to get moving.

“Patch, is there any additional bands of thunderstorms headed our way?” Blade called over the Air Attack Base’s radio channel.

 _“Thank goodness!”_ The relief was palpable in Patch’s voice. _“We are clear for now, but have a series of squalls that are expected to in the park in about 45 minute. What is your current location?”_

“I successfully made it to the Wheel Slip Patrol Cabin where I sheltered with the smokejumpers.”

“ _Understood._ ” The dispatcher breathed. “ _Are all of the smokejumpers with you and accounted for_?”

“That would be an affirmative.” Blade replied before trying to get more information about Cabbie and Dipper. “Did the rest of the team get to safety?”

_“Yes, it was rather hairy for a bit but Windlifter barely made it to base in time. Lil’ Dipper was able to land at Bishop and is planning on flying back once the weather has settled down.”_

“And Cabbie?”

Patch sighed. _“Cabbie is about 15 minutes out from base. The idiot actually threaded between cells in the storm.”_

Blade groaned. While Cabbie was certainly an experienced flyer, the Chief wasn’t particularly thrilled to hear that his jump plane had been in the air during a Severe Thunderstorm Warning. It was a stupid move, and the two aircraft were going to have to have a ‘chat’ later. Still, it was a relief to know that all his people were safe.

“Thank you for letting me know. Please expect me to return to base in the next 30 minutes.”

“ _Wilco…and thank you for checking in. Maru and I were starting to get worried. Air Attack Base out._ ”

With that done, Blade turned his attention to Dynamite and her crew. “Well, you heard the report.” He stared them, and when they didn’t move, he cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, I do need to get to the door.”

The smokejumpers didn’t need to be told twice. They poured out of the enclosed space and out into the storm thrashed landscape. Once you could get a clear look of the surroundings, it was easy to see just how bad the storm had been. The trail was a muddy mess with trees that were snapped and broken. Glancing back at the patrol cabin, it was easy to see the beating the structure and Blade shuttered to think about what would have happened if he and his team would have weathered this storm in the open.

“Well, boys.” Dynamite glanced levelly at her smokejumpers, taking the situation in stride. “It looks like we are going to have our work cut out for us. I think we will stay parked hear until the next line of thunderstorms makes its way through and then we are going to see if we can get this trail patched up.” The captain turned to Blade. “When you get to base could you arrange for a supply dump? I suspect this particular job is going to involve a lot of hot coffee.”

“I will do that.” Blade bobbed on his tires, then once the smokejumpers had retreated back into the cabin, he took to the sky and turned his nose towards home.

* * *

 **Term** \- Patrol Cabin- _Patrol Cabins are structures that help provide shelter to rangers and hikers when they are traveling in the backcountry. These cabins often had hidden stashes of food or fuel that the rangers could use if they got waylaid by bad weather or to help visitors who got into travel. Most Patrol Cabins rustic, one or two-room structures that are heated using a wood stove. They may or may not have basic furniture such as bunk beds (without mattresses), a table, and chairs. In short, Patrol Cabins not particularly comfortable places to stay, but they will keep the weather off._


	17. Q is for Quarter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring was in the air...which meant it was time for Cabbie to hide the explosives...

Like any National Park, Piston Peak had its rhythm. Summer quarter was the busiest. It was when they were swamped with visitors. It was also when thunderstorms, flash floods, and fires were at their strongest. The fall quarter was the shoulder of the season when the lower number of visitors gave the park staff the space they needed to make repairs and prepare structures for the fringed winter months. The fall quarter ended in a final spike of visitors who would fill the lodge for the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. Winter quarter was the Park's quietest, as most of the landscape hibernated under a thick blanket of snow, and the risk of avalanche closed many popular trails and roads.

But before you knew it, the days would get longer, the icy grip of winter would slip, and the calendar would flip from March to April. Spring quarter would finally arrive, and while it heralded many things, the fact that spring was currently on their doorstep meant that it was time for Cabbie to hide the explosives.

“Stop…just stop…” Cabbie sighed as he watched Maru and Blade try to ‘help’ him store the crates of avalanche control explosive materials by pushing a couple of different colored crates together. “For one thing, you are not going to store the blasting caps directly next to the thermobaric charges.”

“Please remind me why we are not just storing all of this at the lodge?” Blade harrumphed. “I clearly remember that that is how the explosives were handled before the Air Attack Chief was made into a year round position.”

“And I was dropping dynamite out of my hatch back then, an explosive that is incredibly safe as long as it isn’t rigged for detonation.” Cabbie tried to patiently explain for the sixth time this morning. “Sticks of dynamite are relatively safe to have in close proximity with the public. These,” Cabbie nosed one of the red-painted crates, “are bombs. Not basically bombs, they are exact same bombs that were developed to try to take out the Vietcong’s tunnel networks during the Vietnam War. They are dangerous as slag, but are one of the most effective tools out there to combat an unstable snowpack.”

“Which is why we need to make sure that all of this equipment is in a place where the smokejumpers can neither find nor access it.” Maru drawled, clearly finding the whole situation somewhat amusing.

“Correct.” Cabbie bobbed slightly. “Those little ground pounders are skilled enough causing trouble and light enough fires without the help of explosives. I really hate to imagine how much chaos they could get themselves into if they knew just how much firepower we had on base.”

“I suspect that we would probably be scrapping their wrecks off the rocks.” Maru supplied, which caused everyone to stare at the crates in front of them, trying to imagine the scene that had just popped into their heads. The mechanic suggested after staring crates for a couple of minutes. “What if we put the blasting caps in Windlifter’s hanger this year?”

“That might work…” Blade somewhat agreed, and the whole team got back to work hiding the explosives in preparation for smokejumper proofing the base.

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Quarter _\- A description of a three months period of time. Often used to help estimate how much money, personnel, and materials will be needed to run a park during different parts of the year._


	18. R is for Ranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when things go very wrong, Chief Blade Ranger has to channel his inner Highway Patrol Chopper.

Blade Ranger had been on patrol when a call went over the park’s emergency channel, and the Chief’s day went into overdrive. There were reports of an altercation at the Hanging Rock Campground, and the lodge had not been able to get a hold of the young seasonal ranger assigned to manage the facility. While exact details of the incident were not known, public safety personal were requested to the site ASAP. 

Upon receiving the call, the helicopter immediately diverted to help knowing full well that he was going to arrive faster than any of the park’s ground public safety rangers. He kept an open channel with Patch, the dispatcher who was trying to make sense of the reports that were coming in from visitors, …and the news wasn’t good. The seasonal ranger had been attacked, and the attacker was apparently blocking the campground's primary exit making it impossible for visitors to flee to safety.

Even though Blade knew that his options to stop a violent visitor were limited, he also knew that for the safety of the Park he needed to either deescalate the situation…or if that failed, he needed to buy enough time for actual law enforcement officers to arrive and deal with it. In short, Blade this was one of the few situations when the helicopter was going to have to pull on his acting experience instead of his firefighting training. He breathed deep and tried to channel his inner ‘Blazing’ Blade Ranger.

The Chief focused on the ground as he came in for a landing and from the air he was easily able to spot where the disturbance. There was a small sedan in the park service grey and green with its back bumper firmly pressed against a stone fence. The ranger was practically pinned by a dark blue truck that was practically pressed against the smaller car’s grill. Noting that attack seemed to be actively in progress, Blade scanned the landscape, trying to figure out the best way to insert himself into the situation. After doing a bit of math in his head, he determined the path that would most likely cause the truck to back off and allow the helicopter to place himself between the two vehicles.

“Patch, I am on final approach.”

 _“Noted. Jump Fife-Won is inbound, eta less than three minutes. Helitanker Tree, Tree is crossing canopy dome, eta to your location is approximately six minutes. The Lodge reports four ground vehicles inbound to your location, eta approximately fifteen minutes.”_ Patch reported in her clipped dispatcher voice that she only utilized when things really hit the fan.

“Understood, landing now.” Blade gave his final report to the dispatcher and then shut down his radio connection, knowing he wouldn’t get back on the horn until the situation was dealt with…or he managed to get himself in a situation where he needed to communicate with one of the inbound responders.

Squaring his rotors, Blade made a textbook approach over the clearing and straight towards the truck. As he neared the ground, he locked eyes with the truck. Playing chicken, he left the vehicle with two options…back up or get landed on. When faced with a vehicle bearing down on him at speed the truck instinctually backed up enough to allow Blade to land at an angle between truck and the ranger, and the force of his downwash allowed the helicopter to give the ranger enough space to peel their bumper off of the stone wall they had been pinned to.

With the two vehicles now safely separated, the helicopter got his first good look at the truck. There was clearly something wrong with the aggressive vehicle. While Blade didn’t know exactly what, the way that the truck sat on his tires and the uneven look in his eyes made the helicopter suspect that drugs, alcohol, mental illness, or some combination of the three were probably playing a role in the current mess. As Blade used his own body to shield the terrified seasonal ranger from the truck who was harassing her, his suspicions were confirmed when he smelled the stench of ethanol and high grade on the vehicle's exhaust. Knowing that he was never going to be able to have a logical conversation with the truck in his altered state, Blade turned his focus to getting the young ranger to safety.

“Are you alright?” The Chief asked…and he received a soft, sobbing whimper in response. So, clearly, the ranger was not okay. Now the question was how bad things where. “Can you drive?”

“Yes…” She managed to stammer in a whisper.

“Do you know where the Air Attack Base is?”

To this, the car bobbed her acknowledgment, but didn’t utter a word. Blade heard the thunder of a familiar set of engines. Relaxing slightly, he spared a glance upward and saw a familiar twin-tailed aircraft performing a figure eight above his location.

“Okay, I want you to drive to the Air Attack Base. A tug named Patch will be waiting for you when you get there, and do you see that in the sky?”

She bobbed another affirmative.

“That plane’s name is Cabbie. He is going to keep an eye on you while you are driving to the base and will let me know immediately if you run into additional trouble. Do you understand?”

The little car bobbed again, clearly on the verge of tears. 

“Go then.”

“But…” She stammered out, then when Blade gave her a concerned look, she managed to whisper. “The campground…the guests…I could get fired…”

The Chief’s expression softened. This young gal had probably started her career under the previous superintendent and hadn’t realized just how much things had changed under Ol’ Jammer’s lead. “You will not be fired. I will speak directly with Superintendent Jammer and make sure that it doesn’t happen, and I will make sure that the campground is taken care of until a new Ranger can be sent up.”

“Thank you.” The little car whispered, before driving at least 15 miles above the speed limit out of the campground.

“Cabbie, do you have eyes on her?”

_“Affirmative, it looks like she will have a clean shot up to the base, and Patch is already on the tarmac waiting for her.”_

“Roger. Let me know if you need any additional resources.” Now that that was taken care of, Blade could turn his attention to the drunken piece of scum in front of him…a drunken piece of scum that didn’t even have the self-preservation instinct to realize that he was completely outclassed at the moment and was currently trying to force his way around Blade to chase after the traumatized ranger. The Chief engine growled as he used his best law enforcement officer voice. “Sir, stand down.”

“Or what you will stop me?” The truck in front of him clearly didn’t take Blade’s authority seriously.

“Yes.”

“You would dare.” The vehicle gave a harsh laugh and reeved his engine. Blade didn’t budge as he stared the vehicle down. The helicopter let a predatory smile cross his lips.

“I may not be able to restrain you, but I am certain that he can.” Blade didn’t flinch as Windlifter’s powerful downdraft filled the clearing. Based on the power of the wind, the Skycrane was using his strong rotors to maximum effect, only throttling back his speed moments before his tires touching the ground. The Chief raised an eyebrow at the hooligan. “Would you like to try?”

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Ranger _\- A ranger is a uniformed employee that is in a position that is responsible for protecting the park and its visitor. Park rangers are divided into four major categories: 1) Interpretative- rangers who are responsible for directly interacting and educating visitors. These are the rangers who give tours, manage the visitor centers, and do outreach with schools. 2) Maintenance – rangers who are responsible for maintaining the park's infrastructure. These are the rangers that maintain trails, plow snow, clean facilities, and make sure that the park’s equipment is in working order. 3) Public Safety – rangers who are responsible for firefighting, EMS, or police actions within the park. If the ranger is carrying a gun, a stretcher, or an ax, they probably belong to this category. A Public Safety Ranger position is considered to be one of the most dangerous civil service jobs in the US. 4) Resource Management – rangers that are trained to manage specific parts of the park. These rangers often have at least a master’s degree if not a Ph.D. and include scientists (biologists, geologists, ecologists, etc.), artisans/historians, and HR specialists (lawyers, accountants, archivists, etc.) While there is a wide variety of ranger careers, it is important to note that not all personal working in the National Park are Rangers._


	19. S is for Student Trainee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were cute...but only at a distance...

At some level, Chief Blade Ranger kind of pitied fire trucks, engines, and tenders. Being a helicopter he had grown up being told that he could be whatever he wanted to be and been shown a whole host of careers. The larger fire apparatus never had those options. From a young age they knew that they were going into public service and while they might eventually become an inspector or training vehicle, they would all start on the fire line.

Because these kids future was already set in stone, job shadowing was considered an important part of their education. It was a way for the kids to get some hands on experience and to determine what type of fire house or fire science school they wanted to apply for when they graduated from high school.

After the half the park burned down, Superintendent Jammer had worked with Pulaski to arrange for a Student Trainee program Piston Peaks National Park to help teach the young apparatuses about the importance of interface and wildland firefighting. Twelve vehicles had been selected for the program and they had been following Pulaski around the park like a flock of ducklings, much to everyone (but Pulaski of course) amusement. In fact, park’s structural apparatus currently was leading a brightly colored gaggle up the air attack base’s gravel road.

“They are kind of cute in an awkward sort of way.” The Chief looked down on the vehicles as they nervously made their way up the mountain. 

“You do know that we are going to get stuck keeping track of them for the next couple of hours so that Pulaski and Rake can get some real work done.” Maru snorted into his coffee.

Blade swore…this afternoon was clearly slagged. 

* * *

**_Term_** \- Student Trainee _\- A high school or college student that is interning with the National Park Service to gain experience in a technical or field based career. These students are often assigned to shadow one, or more professionals at the park. After completion of the student trainee program and their college graduation, the student trainee is given the opportunity to sit for the civil service examination. If they do well at the exam they are given a competitive job appointment within the Park Service system._


	20. T is for Truck Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dynamite had learned long ago that if she wanted some peace and quiet she was going to have to wake up early to get it.

When you lived on an Air Attack Base, privacy was an illusion yourself. Luckily growing up in a household of 14 people had taught Dynamite to excel at putting up with the little indignities of having to share space with others. It had also taught her that if you don’t want to have to fight for a hot shower, you have to be the first one moving in the morning, and even the long days on the fire line had yet to break her of that habit.

Most mornings she woke before the first hints of dawn started to tint the sky. Above her, the sky stretched between the mountain peaks a carpet of stars. Even without a moon, the pinpricks of light in the heavens provided just enough light for her to navigate so she didn’t turn on her headlights. Instead, she rolled across the tarmac and to the entrance of a well warn truck trail.

This particular trail was as rough as they came. Ungroomed and barely maintained, it was more of a fire break than a tool for transport. It was also closed to the public, which made it perfect for what Dynamite needed it for. Quietly bringing her engines to a purr, she took a deep breath and latched herself forward.

Traveling down the trail at a high rate of speed, the Smokejumper captain allowed herself to be lost in the movement. She poured her focus into the moment, letting her tires remember the location of every bump and pothole, safely navigating the obstacle with the grace of a professional racer.

As she moved, the world began to wake up around her. The horizon turned from blue to purple and then blossomed into pink as the sun began to pull itself into the sky. The gliders started to call, and the canyon wind was setting the treetops gently swaying.

Dynamite’s exhausted came out as puffs of white cold mountain air as she slowed, getting ready to turn around and head back to base. As the crunch of her own tires quieted, she heard the sound of something moving in the woods. She gently tapped on her breaks and came to a complete stop just in time to see a large deere crossing the truck tail in front of her. The buck looked at her for a few long moments, before flicking his side mirrors and bounded back into the forest.

The ATV took a moment to let the pleasure of the moment sink in. Then she kicked her engines back into gear and turned around. The trip back to base was both quick and uneventful. Now that the trail was fully lit, Dynamite pushed her engines to allow her to tear down the dirt track. Relaxing into the turns and letting her suspension take the jolts of the uneven ground, she was easily able to exceed 50 miles per hour when she busted out of the forest and back onto solid tarmac.

Like the forest, the Air Attack Base was also waking. Blade’s hanger door was open, which meant that the Chief was probably already out on his morning patrol. Cabbie and Patch were sitting by the C-119’s hanger sipping coffee and listening to that day’s weather report. The strains of a familiar Chicano rock album were coming from the main hanger, which meant that Blackout was already working on breakfast…which meant it was time for Dynamite to get to work. Reeving her engine, the smokejumper captain threw the doors to the smokejumper’s hanger wide open.

“Alright, you lazy lumps, time to get your afts moving!”

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Truck Trail _\- An unimproved road in the park used for protection or servicing of the backcountry. The vast majority of Truck Trails are designed to be fire breaks or fire access roads. These roads tend to have a very uneven grade, require 4X4 drive to access, and are generally closed to the public._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness, this story reminded that I need to write more for Dynamite. :)


	21. U is for Utilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A panic attack makes Blackout's day goes from bad to worse.

Given his reputation when it came to utilities, Blackout wasn’t particularly sure why he had been saddled with this particular job. Yes, he had a saw, but it wasn’t like he was the only vehicle who could wield one in the Park. Or better yet, the Park could have brought in an actual specialist to fix the problem. But no, it was the weekend and a certain superintendent had decided that it would be cheaper and easier to have a smokejumper do the repair instead.

Blackout really didn’t care how much cheaper he was, he wasn’t a plumber. He had no clue what he was doing and after one excruciatingly painful experience with the live powerline, Blackout really, really didn’t like sticking his blade into things when he couldn’t see/didn’t understand how they worked. But at the same time, he also really didn’t know how to say no. Not to the Superintendent. So against his better judgment, he had rolled into the hole and gotten to work.

At first, Blackout had been able to just power through the problem. As long as he didn’t think too hard about what he was doing, he could work by the glow of his headlights. Fixing this pipe shouldn’t be too difficult; he just finished the task one step at a time. For the first 15 minutes, Blackout thought he was going to be able to do it. But the piping system hadn't been properly drained so when his blade broke through the pipe, and waterfall gushed out causing part of the ceiling to collapse and the floor to start filling with muddy water. It was as though the world was closing in around him, drowning him in water and soil.

Blackout panicked.

There was no other word for it. He panicked and all though he was able to shake himself free of the soil, he knew that he couldn’t take it anymore. As his mind flashed back to a moment in time that he was not fully capable of remembering and his tongue tasted the metallic tang of electricity, Blackout took the only action left to him.

“That’s it. He terminado!” Blackout announced before backing out confined space. He drove off without a second glance, even though he could hear people calling his name and argument break out. He also heard someone try to follow him, but there was the reeving sound of a familiar engine and it seemed like Dynamite successfully stopped them in their tracks.

Blackout didn’t stop until he had successfully driven back to base and parked himself in the power washer. Engulfed by hot water and steam he was finally able to feel the worst of the panic attack ebb, which of course meant that the full force of what he had just done flooded in. Blackout had let his team down and the ache of guilt and embarrassment settled like a stone in his engine.

Drying off, he was able to speak enough words to convince Maru that he could be left alone. Sadly, Blackout bumped into Cabbie on the tarmac and the old plane proved to be more stubborn than the mechanic. It was clear that the C-119 wasn’t going to move and he was sitting between Blackout and the smokejumper’s hanger. 

“You know what happened?” Blackout finally asked his transport plane quietly.

“Only what I heard on the radio. You gave Dynamite quite a scare storming off like that, but she mostly took that out on the contractors.” Cabbie softly chuckled, then let everything lapse into silence. Looking the smaller vehicle up and down, he finally asked. “Want to talk about it?”

“Realmento…no…” Blackout admitted, sinking lower on his tires.

“Alright.” Cabbie spoke without judgment, then after a moment, he shrugged his wings. “I was going to watch some baseball in the main hanger. You are welcome to join me.”

Even though the plane usually didn’t follow sports, Cabbie puttered over to the main hanger and turned on the TV. Flicking through the channels he settled on the most sedate baseball game he could find. Neither vehicle spoke for the rest of the afternoon. Occasionally Maru or one of the other aircraft would peek their noses into the hanger, but Cabbie would do his talking without saying a word thing and the other vehicle would simply nod and leave. 

By the time the other smokejumpers had fixed the mess he had created, Blackout was finally feeling better. He looked up Cabbie, who was pointedly focused the screen in front of him. The little vehicle gently bumped the plane's side and whispered his thanks. Cabbie didn't speak, he just rolled with Blackout back to the smokejumper hanger before heading back to his own space.

The rest of the smokejumpers looked at Blackout with a mix of curiosity and concern. Under his fellow vehicle’s stares, he couldn’t help but feel the heat of guilt and embarrassment bubbling to the surface. He had screwed up today, and that had reflected poorly on his team. He had let them down and he didn’t know how to make that right.

“Lo siento…” Blackout tried start but he quickly found himself parked tire to tread with Avalanche.

“SUPERINTENDENT SPINNER IS AN IDOT.” The dozer rumbled as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The words hung in the hanger for a few rotor beats…then Pinecone started to giggling and any tension that sawyer still felt disappeared. The team didn’t blame him for what had happened; they just wanted to make sure that he was okay. After he let Dynamite poke and prod him a bit to make sure that nothing was damaged, the team quickly slipped back to their normal evening rhythm. With a yawn, Blackout let himself just enjoy the comradery.

Blackout really didn’t like working with utilities…but that is alright. He really liked working with his team, and he knew that his teammates had his back when things got sticky.

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Utilities _\- This term refers to the public utilities that the National Park accesses. These often include the electricity, internet, phone, water, sewage, and garbage removal. While most National Parks are able to access these services by connecting the communities around them, some National Parks and Monuments are isolated enough that they are responsible for producing and managing all of their utilities on site._


	22. V is for Vista Clearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a tree needed to be removed, unfortunately not every guest understood that.

Nothing screamed spring like mud, wildflowers, and the sound of chainsaws first thing in the morning. Unfortunately, not all park visitors were not as welcoming of the work required to keep Piston Peaks a safe and welcoming place. One of these visitors was currently chained to a tree in a particularly popular scenic overlook...and after chewing out his smokejumpers, this visitor was now the problem of one Chief Blade Ranger.

“Ma’am, you do know that the tree you have chosen to chain yourself is dead, right?” Blade sighed as he eyed the snag that apparently just had to be ‘saved’ from the smokejumper’s blade. At one point, it had been a magnificent spruce, but rain, wind, and gravity had slowly eroded the soil from around its roots. Then it had been infected with bark beetles last summer, which had been the last straw for the poor tree, which had died sometime during the winter. Now with brown needles, the tree was a fire hazard, though as Blade watched it sway, he suspected that the tree would probably come tumbling down before it had a chance to burn.

“You can’t cut down trees!” The vehicle shouted back as though the Chief’s words had not registered. “This is a National Park! What you are doing here is criminal!”

Then a gust of wind hit, and things went from bad to worse. Listening to the way that the tree creaked was raised Blade’s level of concern. It was making the distinctive screeching noise could only mean one thing. He made eye contact with Pinecone, and it was clear that their team's resident tree expert was hearing the exact same thing. That tree was unstable and having a car chained was only making the situation worse. The nature of the problem now evident, Dynamite and her team were already powering into action, anchoring ropes to the rocks, leaving Blade to try to keep the vehicle as still as possible.

“Ma’am…” Blade started to speak but stopped by a splintering noise caused by roots snapping. They had run out of time. The tree was headed off a cliff and Blade didn’t even waste a single moment thinking as he deployed his hoist. The well-placed hook managed to snag the car’s axel just as it started to be pulled down the slope towards the abyss.

For about a millisecond, the Chief thought that he had successfully averted disaster. His hoist hummed with the force and pain of the load he carried, but it held. Then his own wheels started to slide down the slope. His own bulk was not enough to stop the combined weight of the car and the tree trying to head over the cliff. It was only going to be a matter of seconds before they dragged him over…and he wouldn’t survive that fall. Then a new pain hit him with the pain of an Avalanche…or more properly, with the pain of a ‘Pinecone.’ Pinecone had latched onto his tail boom using her rake and she wasn’t going to let go. 

“Avalanche!” Dynamite’s voice was danced along the knife’s edge of panic and control, but her teammates knew exactly what she was asking for.

“I AM ON IT!” The dozer thundered as he barreled down the slope. He managed just managed to squeeze himself between the car and the edge of the cliff. Placing his blade against the car's back bumper, he reeved his engine and powered uphill. Even with all of his force he was barely making purchase.

By this point the car was screaming bloody murder, both Blade’s hoist and tail were in agony, Pinecone was barely holding up against the strain, and Avalanche as nearly about to go over a cliff. They had to cut the amount of weight pulling the team downward, though.

“Okay, Blackout, cut that tree loose!” Dynamite managed to make herself heard of the cacophony.

“Wilco.” The smokejumper acknowledged the command as he used the ropes to maneuvers himself over the side of the cliff.

Moments later, his saw buried itself deep into the tree. Everything hung there in a balance for a brief eternity. Then a massive snap echoed across the valley and the downward force of the tree suddenly disappeared. Blade found the strain on his hoist disappear even he was felt himself being dragged uphill by Pinecone. Avalanche practically catapulted the car uphill into a picnic table, which was quashed under their combined weights.

“Avalanche, I need you to retrieve Blackout!” Dynamite continued to yell out orders from where she was manning the place where the smokejumper’s safety ropes were anchored to the rock. “Drip, first aid kit now!”

Blade didn’t realize just how badly he was shaking until Pinecone released her hold on his tail, parked herself in front of his nose, and started to spout out the concussion checklist. The Air Attack Chief answered each question halfheartedly as he watched Avalanche put his weight into reeling in an unconscious Blackout back to safety.

“Windlifter is on his way. We are sending Blackout back to base first, but have already let Maru know that you will be in the second load.” Dynamite took a moment to assure him, before taking the first aid kit from Drip and heading to work on her downed teammate.

Blade settled in for the weight, when a tug on his hoist made him choke out a cry of pain. A moment later, he was staring down a car that didn’t have enough common sense to stay in one place. Laughable, she had actually recovered enough to start screaming about suing them…Blade was about to give her an honest piece of his mind, but it turned out Drip had discovered an even better piece of revenge.

“She was filming the entire thing!” The little skidsteer announced while proudly lifting the offending camera into the air.

“That is my camera!” The car actually tried to launch herself at Drip, only to realize that she was still tangled in Blade’s hoist. “You have to give it back to me now!”

“No, Ma’am, that is evidence and will be given to the relevant authorities.” Dynamite sighed as she looked up from where she was working to patch up Blackout. When the car continued to protest, the smokejumper boss glanced over to the second-largest member of the team. “Pinecone?”

“I will take care of it.” She sighed, as she latched her tow hook to the car's bumper and physically dragged her up towards the overlook turnoff. The car protested, but Pinecone was not having any of that. “Ma’am, pardon my French, but ‘Shut the Ford Up’!”

This left the members of the Air Attack Team in the chaos of what once had been a pristine scenic overlook. Sitting in the wreckage, Blade knew two things were certain…Windlifter was going to have to give him a ride back to base and Maru was going to be pissed.

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Vista Clearing _\- The removal of brush, trees, or other growth to maintain the view at a given vista point. This includes keeping the vegetation maintained around designated overlooks, clearing trees that are encroaching on meadows, and creating openings in the forest to allow visitors to observe the scale of the landscape around them. When possible, rangers target vista clearing to locations that have the greatest historical or enjoyment value. They also will target the removal of non-native vegetation or the removal of native vegetation._


	23. W is for Watershed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team deals with the consequences of using the wrong retardant chemical and a bad drop.

The moment that Blade Ranger saw Dusty making the drop, the Chief knew that the team was about to get their afts chewed out. Instead of the normal red iron oxide retardant that they were supposed to be deploying on this fire, the SEAT was laying down a line of off-white foam that was supposed to be exclusively used to protect wooden structures like the lodge. And to make the whole situation worse, the SEAT had made a rookie mistake and dumped part of the load into a nearby creek.

“Stop drops. I say again, stop all drops!” Blade ordered the rest of the aircraft in the formation while kicking himself into a hover. “Dynamite, I need a sit-rep.”

“ _This fire is moving fast and hot.”_

“Can you hold it without areal support?”

_“That would be a negative.”_

“Understood.” Blade spoke with a practiced clip. “Dynamite, I need you to get your team to a defensible position and wait for the fire to burn over. Once you are safely in the black, I need you to double back and see if you can block Driverworks Creek in order to stop a chemical spill from reaching Anchor Lake.”

_“Roger that. I will radio you when we are in the black.”_

With that, Blade could see his smokejumpers quickly move downhill towards an open meadow. Knowing that Dynamite had her team under control and would call if she needed help, he turned his attention to the rest of the team.

“Cabbie, stay on station and keep an eye on the ground pounders.”

“ _Roger._ ” The C-119’s engine roared has the jump plane entered a figure-eight centered over the pack of smokejumpers.

“Everyone else, time to get back to base.” Blade said as he pointed his nose towards the air attack base and pushed himself out of the hover. “Windlifter, your spare water tank is operational, correct?”

_“It is.”_

“Good, I need you to get back to base, top up your fuel, and swap tanks as efficiently as possible. Once you are done, I need you to pull water off Anchor Lake and provide support for the smokejumpers.”

 _“Understood.”_ Everyone could hear that the Skycrane was pushing himself hard, but he was still falling behind the rest of the air tankers.

“When you land, we will make sure that Maru is ready for you.” Blade glanced at his two planes. “As for the rest of use, we will work with Maru to figure out who is going to get their water tanks scrubbed out first.”

Dipper took the news pretty smoothly. This wasn’t the first time someone had made an error with the mix, and given the complexity of her tank system, the flying boat knew that she was probably going to be grounded for the rest of the day.

As they approached the base, it looked like Maru was also taking the situation in stride. Windlifter’s spare tank was already sitting on the side of the runway and the mechanic was lining up hoses on the edge of the apron. As expected, Dusty’s speed meant that he was the first on the ground followed by Dipper. Both planes made a beeline to where Maru’s set up was before Blade made his final, but they left him enough room to land comfortably in front of the temporary cleaning station.

“Maru.” Blade barked as his engines wound down. “What happened?”

“It looks like a factory mix up. The container I used to mix the retardant had the correct labels but apparently not the right content.” Maru sighed, clearly annoyed by the development.

“Okay.” Blade chewed his lip. “We have been through this drill before. What is your suggestion?”

“Windlifter only needs a quick tank swap. I will get that done when he arrives…” Maru glanced at the clock on the wall. “In about 5 minutes. Dusty’s scoops and tanks are the easiest to clean, so I would suggest putting him next in the cue. Your tank is the next easiest to clean, followed by Dipper. Once everyone’s tanks are cleared, I will work on scrubbing down base tanks and Windlifter’s contaminated external tank.”

“That sounds like a reasonable plan, but start on Dipper as soon as you finish with Dusty.” Blade started to warm up his engines again.

“Rodger,” Maru bobbed his understanding as he started to attach hoses to water valves, “where are you going to be heading?”

“I am going to take one of the chemical tanks and head down the lodge to work the biologists to figure out what we need to do to clean up this mess.”

“Have fun with that.”

Blade took to the air knowing that this meeting would be anything but fun.

* * *

Blade made it into base minutes before the 30 minutes after sunset rule required him to be on the ground. The only reason that he managed to do so, was that the air traffic controllers down at the lodge knew how lousy he was at IFR and insisted that he either leave that moment or stay the night. None of the biologists wanted a cranky helicopter looking over their shoulders as they filled out reports, so he was ushered on his way.

Maru was still hard at work, tines deep in Dipper’s tanks trying to get them rinsed out. Even though she was clearly uncomfortable, the flying boat still smiled as he approached. Blade was about to ask about the ETA for getting everything cleaned up, but Dusty chose that moment to roll out of the main hanger join the group.

“So…” Dusty didn’t look the Chief in the eyes, which told him that someone on base had let the SEAT know just how much trouble his bad aim had caused the team. “Do we know what the verdict is?”

“It will take a couple of weeks for all the paperwork to be filed through the EPA.” As the helicopter spoke, Dusty looked up with those puppy dog eyes of his. My goodness, the SEAT was nearly as good as the smokejumpers when it came to looking incredibly guilty. It was as though the plane was just waiting to be yelled at, the Chief sighed. There was no use leaving Dusty hanging like that. “But, I think, given our situation, they will let us off with a slap on the bumper. But next time you spread chemical on the landscape, please check where you are applying your retardant. We were just incredibly lucky that the foam wasn’t water-soluble and that the smokejumpers were able to prevent it from getting into the lake. Under other circumstances, this situation could have been disastrous.”

Dipper gave Dusty a sympathetic smile and a nudge with her wing. “See…I told you that everything worked out okay.”

“But…” Dusty tried to start.

“Is dinner ready, yet?” Blade changed the subject.

“I…I don’t know. Cabbie was still working on it when I left the hanger.”

“Then why don’t you go see if it is done.” Then, when Dusty failed to move, Blade continued. “Now.”

Dusty scampered across the runway, followed by Dipper, who offered to keep an ‘eye’ on him. The Chief knew that it was the flying boat’s way of giving Blade and Maru the space they need to have a quiet conversation. The two vehicles stared at each other for a couple of rotor beats; then Maru started rummaging around in a nearby cooler.

“So, how long is it going to take to clean up this mess?”

“At least another two days to clean the tanks and about a week to clean the creek.” Maru admitted as he cracked an open can of low grade. “As for cleaning up staff confidence issues? I think you just finished mopping up that problem.”

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Watershed _\- Defined as the area of land that drains into a particular water body, watersheds need to be taken into account when managing a fire. If a team is fighting a fire in close proximity to a river, stream, lake, or coastline there are often additional restrictions on the type of chemicals that can be used. In fact, no retardant is supposed to be used directly over a water body because it can lead to fish kills, algae blooms, or harms to drinking water systems. When a retardant that is not rated for use near a water body accidentally gets into a water body, it is treated as a chemical spill which needs to be cleaned up. The first time is usually treated as an accident and only involves a boatload of paperwork. If it happens twice usually fines and other legal actions are taken._


	24. X is for Xeroderma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jammer was finding nearly impossible to get time off which made it difficult to get basic repairs done. Luckily, Maru keeps an eye out for the Park's staff.

The park was understaffed, under-resourced, and every single vehicle knew why but there was nothing that they could do but try to work through it…Which is how Ranger Jammer got into this predicament in the first place. As the Chief Interpretive Ranger, Ol’ Jammer had to work particularly hard to make sure that his staff didn’t burn out. Getting formal time off under Cad was nearly impossible, so what usually Jammer ended up covering for his employees when a family emergency or when they had an event (like jury duty) that they couldn’t miss.

While his department was managing to function despite the pressures put on them, this summer it was coming at the cost of Jammer’s health. At the beginning of the season, he started to have an area of dry, flaky paint on his rear bumper that not even a proper coat of wax seemed to soothe. By June, the patch had gone from itchy to actually painful, and in July, the patch started to spread to his undercarriage.

Jammer knew that sooner or later he would need to see a proper mechanic about the issue, but the superintendent had made it incredibly clear that the mechanic’s clinic at the lodge was for guests only so Jammer would have to go into town…And the soonest he could realistically get a full day off was mid-September when the visitor numbers started to drop off but before the seasonal staff left for the winter. Until then, Jammer would have to just power through. He hid his discomfort pretty well…or at least he thought he did until Maru, the Piston Peak Air Attack Base’s mechanic, managed to corner him at the end of one of monthly department head meetings.

Maru eyed Jammer for a moment before the tug harrumphed. “So, when do you get off for the day?”

Jammer just looked at the mechanic with tired eyes. After all, he lived in the National Park, and when problems popped up in the middle of the night, he was the one who got to deal with them…so, yeah, he never really ‘got off.’ Sadly, the mechanic quickly put the puzzle together.

“When was the last time you had a day off?”

That question was significantly more challenging than it should have been. “March…no, April. I managed to get a half-day to run into town on that rainy Wednesday.”

Maru stared at Jammer for a few long rotor beats, and then pressed his tine to his head. “I swear you are as bad as Blade…Who is your second in command?”

“…”

“Okay then,” the mechanic bulldozed forward, “who is your most experienced Interpretative Ranger?”

“Roberta’s been here the longest, but she is only…”

“Great.” Maru held up a tine to stop Jammer from arguing. “I will get a hold of her and let her know that I am pulling you from duty for the rest of the day.”

“It isn’t that big of deal…” The ranger tried to argue halfheartedly.

“Jammer, if this was just some dry paint, I wouldn’t be making this fuss, but you have a full-blown case of Xeroderma going on. A case that is bad enough that I suspect you have avoided getting it treated for at least three to four months, and one that will start causing significant damage to your physical structure if it isn’t dealt with ASAP.” Maru sighed, when it looked like Jammer was going to continue to argue the mechanic decided to address the elephant in the room. “And if Superintendent Spinner complains that you are gone for a day to take care of your basic medical needs, then I will arrange Cabbie to go sit on him for a couple of hours.”

As much as Jammer liked to be right, he knew that he couldn’t argue with that. So, Maru got his way and Jammer got to spend the rest of the afternoon napping while the issues with his paint job finally received the attention it so badly needed.

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Xeroderma _\- This medical term refers to abnormally dried skin. While it normally is used in relation to medical conditions such as ichthyosis, it can also be used to describe any conditions that damage the ability of the skin to produce sweat and oils to moisturize the skin. These conditions include several situations that wildfirefighters face on a regular basis such as burns, severe dehydration, high wind exposure, and chafing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter seems as good as any to announce that based on your votes, next year's advent story will be M is for Mechanic! While I have staked a claim on a few of the letters (because L has to be for Lightning Strike), I am still brainstorming the others. If there is a particular prompt, story, or situation that you would like to read next year, now is the time to let me know and I will see if I can get the plot bunnies to bite.


	25. Y is for Yawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a mission goes bad, there is only one place the Smokejumpers would go for comfort.

The long hours of boredom between missions did a good job of honing various members of the Piston Peaks Air Attack Team’s ability to spin a good yarn. Blade rarely told stories, but when he did, he kept every vehicle in earshot riveted to the ground. Maru always managed to keep just enough truth in his tales to keep the listener guessing, and Patch could even make Blade crack a smile when she retold some of the more dubious exploits of the base’s inhabitants. Dipper could rattle off a play-by-play of the latest race, and Blackout was surprisingly good at doing impressions…and of course, Windlifter brought his own particular flair to any story he chose to tell. Everyone on base would tell stories at one point or another, but there was one storyteller that the smokejumpers particularly craved. And of course, he was the hardest one to convince to spill the beans. The one exception being when a mission went particularly wrong…

Today had been a particularly bad one. An early morning fire had escaped the boundaries of the park and into a neighboring vacation community. They had eventually gotten the fire out, but houses had burned…Pinecone and Drip were worse for wear…Dynamite was in a hospital burn unit…a civilian had died…everyone on base was feeling like an utter failure. It was the type of day that broken teams.

Maru had spent the entire evening patching Pinecone and Drip up, while trying to not fret about Dynamite’s condition. Knowing that after the mess of today, no one was going to be deploying to the field tomorrow morning, he worked long into the night filling out paperwork.

He finally surfaced from his reports at two in the morning and decided to check on his patients. Rolling into the Smokejumper’s hanger, he found it cold and dark. By the looks of it, Maru doubted that anyone had been in it all night. Luckily, he knew the Smokejumpers well, and there was only one place they would be.

As Maru approached, he could make out the faint light of a lantern and could hear Cabbie voice pouring out, like the surf lapping across a beach. The mechanic quietly made his way across the tarmac and slowly pried the hanger door just enough to peek in. When Maru made eye contact with the plane inside, he gave him a soft smile and a slight spin of his right propeller to acknowledge the mechanic, but otherwise remained still, the flow of his story completely uninterrupted.

Looking at the scene in front of him, made the plane’s actions that much more impressive. Pinecone was leaning up on the plane’s left landing gear in a way that would make Cabbie mighty sore in the morning, but the C-119 didn’t acknowledge the discomfort he must be feeling in any way. He stayed frozen, allowing the broken machine to gain comfort by clinging to him. Drip had been a little more practical, but still was ignoring any sense of personal space. The little ground pounder had wedged himself partway under Cabbie’s fuselage. Blackout had clearly drifted off under the wing of the plan, as his soft snoring was currently providing another layer of rhythm to Cabbies’ winding tale.

Out of the group, only Avalanche stood apart. He was only half sheltered under Cabbies’ wing and he held his frame more rigidly, as though the little dozer was trying to force himself to stay awake. At one glance, Maru knew what he was trying to do. With Dynamite injured and in the hospital, Avalanche was doing his best to keep the team safe. He was doing his best to temporarily roll into Dynamite’s tire tracks and keep watch over his injured teammates. But even as Maru peered through the crack in the hanger door, the mechanic could see Cabbies’ story work his magic and some of the tension in Avalanche’s frame dissolve as the dozer moved closer to the sleep he so badly needed. 

Cabbie continued to talk about training for air shows in Georgia. About tarmac baked under the southern sun until it was so hot that it was gummy under his tires and he almost thought he might stick to it like a fly sticks to flypaper when he came into a landing. He spoke about air so thick with humidity that it felt like you could cut it with a wing and how he had wondered if this is what a submarine felt like cutting through the sea. Then he spoke about what it had been like to fly at night, with an ocean of stars above him and a sea of fireflies below. And how that had made the oppressive heat bearable, because at night he knew that he would be able to fly and see that sight again.

Cabbie spoke of inconsequential things, but he did so with such detail that you could forget that you were sitting in a hanger high in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. You could become so absorbed in his story that for a fleeting moment, you could forget the nightmare of the past 24 hours. Watching smokejumpers sheltering under the old C-119’s wings, Maru couldn’t help but have a ghost of a smile dance across his lips. Because while Blade was the base’s leader, Dynamite was the team’s stubbornness, and Avalanche had somehow become its heart, Cabbie was clearly the team’s anchor…the one who made the Piston Peaks Air Attack Base a home.

Knowing that the smokejumpers were well taken care of, Maru gave Cabbie a final nod before shutting the hanger door and heading back out into the night. For a few long moments, the mechanic just let the moment sink in. He felt the coolness of the night air on his skin and listened continued to listen to Cabbie’s voice drawl on about the blue of the Atlantic stretching to the horizon, now slightly muffled by the hanger door. He paused and let the words wash over him.

Then he started to move again. Blade’s hanger light was still on…Maru needed some oil…and on a night like this evening he didn’t want to drink it alone.

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Yarn _\- A long often winding tell. This term is often used to describe a story that has been embellished for the entertainment of the listener. There are a number of people on base who have mastered the art of spinning a good yarn._


	26. Z is for Ziggurat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was time to celebrate the National Park Service's 100 year anniversary, and Superintendent Jammer knew just the vehicles who deserved to be in the limelight.

There were many things that an organizational chart could tell you, but the piece of information that Superintendent Jammer wanted was going to involve a little more digging. After all, the United States National Park Service was turning 100 and every park and monument in the system was encouraged to throw a party to celebrate. Jammer had discussed possible options for the celebration with each of his section chiefs and everyone had agreed that the best way to celebrate the National Park was to celebrate the people who dedicated their lives to protect it. In the end, it was decided that four vehicles would be honored as part of the party, the most senior in each of the park’s staff sections.

That is when Superintendent Jammer’s job got really difficult…he now had to convince the four vehicles to actually show up and participate in the celebration. Having known each of them for decades, Jammer knew that one didn’t remain a simple cog in the Park Service machine unless you were able to keep your nose down, blend in with your surroundings, and avoid getting involved in politics. Luckily, Ol’ Jammer hadn’t been assigned to the post of superintendent during Piston Peak’s hour of need simply because he had seniority. During his time working up the ranks of the interpretative ranger staff, he had heavily worked with the other departments to get things done, and he knew the exact buttons to push to get what he wanted.

He started with the oldest vehicle on staff, because Jammer knew that if he could get the event on Bellmouth’s schedule, he would show up. The steam engine, after all, was a stickler for schedules and his strong need for routine was probably the primary reason that he was still at Piston Peak instead of retiring to the Golden Spike National Monument like the other steam locomotives in the Park Service. And the fastest way to get something on Bellmouth’s schedule was to ask Token, the station master, to put it there.

The trick was finding a moment when Token was free. It took two days of stopping by the lodge’s train station to finally catch the tug, but he was willing to listen to Jammer’s request when they finally did cross paths.

“You do realize that we have already started to sell tickets for that month.” Token didn’t have to say anymore. Sold tickets meant they couldn’t cancel the train trip without a very good reason like a landslide blocking the track…or the entire park is currently engulfed in flames. Jammer knew this before he arrived in the station, so he had come prepared.

“If you would like, I could arrange for one of the state diesel engines to take over Bellmouth’s route that day. That way, we can have him carry a load of dignitaries to the event and then attend himself.”

“I think that could work.” Token made some notes on his clipboard and gave a quick nod. “I will make the needed changes to the schedule and will expect a second engine to help cover the additional passenger load. Please let me know when you have gotten that arrange so that I can speak directly with the partner engines.”

“I will get you the info within 72 hours. Just let Bellmouth that we would like him to say a few words about his memories from the founding of the park.”

Pleased with his success, Jammer moved onto the next vehicle on the list. Euclid was a soft-spoken dump truck, but he was always willing to work road crew had a big job to be done. He was also easy to find, as the oldest member of the park’s road crew the road boss usually had him assigned to tasks around the base. That way, if the team was ever faced with an emergency, Euclid was only seconds away from their team’s headquarters and the maps it contained. Today, Euclid was inventorying the sand that the vehicles used to give the park’s roads more traction during the winter, so he was perfectly capable of taking a quick break.

“Are you sure that Harold wouldn’t be a better pick for this?” Euclid muttered into his cup of coffee after Jammer had explained the whole situation.

“Harold is a good speaker, and he is the road boss, but we both know that you have been the heart of this department for going on five decades. If anyone can speak to the jobs that park service staff does that are never seen by the public, it would be you.”

Euclid looked Jammer directly in the eyes for a few uncomfortable seconds, before turning his attention back to his coffee mug. “Alright, but don’t expect me to say much.”

“It only has to be a small bucket of words.” Jammer assured before leaving the dump truck to get back to his work.

Jammer then moved on to his next ‘victim’…I mean, staff member. He had saved the most stubborn one for the second to last…and as he expected, Cabbie was the hardest one to convince to show up. While Jammer understood the old plane’s reasons, that didn’t stop the whole situation from being frustrating.

“Cabbie, you have been part of Piston Peak’s public safety and law enforcement team longer than anyone else in the park. For goodness sakes, you were one of the founding members of the Air Attack Team!” Jammer shouldn’t have gotten to the point of raising his voice, but the plane had decided to park on a position and was not giving an inch. 

“That still doesn’t make a spokesplane.” The C-119 nearly growled. “I already had to spill my story to the half the park, I would prefer not to have to repeat that to the world at large.”

The last piece of the puzzle finally clicked in place in Jammer’s head and the reason why Cabbie was being so stubborn suddenly made a whole lot more sense. The old warplane was incredibly private about his past, so much so it practically took an act of congress to get him to open his mouth. While part of it was because he had participated in OPSEC operations, a lot more of it had to do with the ugly facts of the jobs Cabbie had done both on and off the battlefield. The plane in front of him was carried ghosts as well as smokejumpers. Taking a deep breath, the Superintendent changed his tactic.

“Then speak for the men and women on the wall. Speak for them, because we both know that you are the only plane in this park that knew each and every one of them. I don’t care what you say, I don’t care if all you do is read their names aloud, but we can’t let them be forgotten.”

Cabbie let out a long, pained breath. Then he looked at Jammer with a glimmer of raw pain in his eyes. “Fine…If you think that I am the only one who can do this job, I will do it. But remember, that I am not doing it for you, or the visitors, or anyone else like that. I am doing it for them.”

“I know, and that will be enough.”

After the raw emotion of the conversation with Cabbie, Jammer was glad that he only had one vehicle left on his list. Especially because he knew that Roberta would say yes. While the elementary school educator had never been a full-time Park Service employee, she seemed to come back every summer as a member of the seasonal interpretive ranger staff. When she started, being a ranger wasn’t really considered to be women’s work…now, well now, she was more trusted that almost any vehicle in the park. She had dedicated an important part of her life to Piston Peak and now families came to allow their children the experience to go through the same Jr. Ranger program that they had done as a child, all under the watchful eye of Roberta.

“You know that you don’t even need to ask.” Roberta said as Jammer rolled into the interpretative ranger break room. “My answer is yes.”

Jammer smiled and drove through the room to get to his office. “Thank you for that. You would not believe how difficult it was to convince some of the crew to participate. It is always nice to know that you have my back.”

“I guess that leaves us with only one last vehicle to schedule.” Roberta commented as she rolled into his office and leaned casually against his desk.

“Oh?” Jammer tilted on his tires, genuinely curious.

“You.” The interpretative ranger grinned at him. “We couldn’t leave you out of this celebration. You do, after all, practically personify a park old timer.”

“But I don’t want to take away from what the rest of the staff are talking about.”

“And you won’t. Bellmouth is talking those who built the park…Cabbie, those who have put their lives on the line to protect it…Euclid, the vehicles who work behind the scenes…while I am speaking about those rangers who work directly with the public. But for all of your planning you forgot about one, very important group of park service staff.” Roberta paused as though she was waiting for Jammer to fill in the blank, which he failed to do because he had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going. Eventually she took pity on him and continued. “Someone needs to talk about the rangers that are to come. Someone needs to roll up to that podium and paint a picture of what this park will be like in 10, 20, 50, heck another 100 years in the future and I can’t think of anyone who is better positioned to do that then you.”

Ol’ Jammer rolled back on his tires. As much as he hated to admit it, Roberta made a very good point. And as much as he wanted to pull a ‘Cabbie’ at the moment, he also knew that the correct choice was to step up to the task.

“Alright, you have convinced me.”

“Great. I will make sure that your name is on the program.” Roberta gave him her very best customer service smile, but she also winked as she rolled out his office door. 

Jammer couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as the door clicked shut. Being a Superintendent of a National Park had good days and bad. But regardless of what type of day he was having could think of a better team to work with or a better place to call home.

* * *

 ** _Term_** \- Ziggurat _\- Used to describe a graphical figure that represents the personnel grade structure of the National Park Service. Because there are more rangers working on the ground level of the park service then there are section chiefs or superintendents, the figure ends up looking like the Babylonian stepped pyramids. These pyramids are known as Ziggurats, so they named the chart after the structure._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! We have successfully reached the end of another year's advent story. I hope that you enjoyed it! I am already starting to put down the bones for next year's story, M is for Mechanic, but there is still time to suggest a term or topic. But don't wait too long as the deadline for suggestions is January 1st, 2020.


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